


Strings

by orphan_account



Series: That Tie [1]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Addiction, Anal Sex, Angst, Blowjobs, Bonding, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Homophobia, Hook-Up, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Parental Disapproval, Tags May Change, blood-drinking, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-02-26 17:43:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 45,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18721870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Simon needed a hookup and Jace needed a hookup, so they hook up, no strings attached, but then there are nightmares and problems and they spiral towards each other and the strings come.





	1. I've got no strings to tie me down

**Author's Note:**

> Canon Divergence: They stop Lilith her attempt to raise Jonathan on the rooftop and Clary never went missing.  
> Warning for alcoholism, underage drinking, panic attacks and mild violence.

Simon threw his head back and downed the shot of vodka, yeah vodka he was looking to get fucked up tonight, then have some nice sex. He'd gotten in with a fake ID and barely a glance (he really just wanted some peace so no Hunter's Moon).  He slammed his hand on the table as he finished, the taste was terrible, it wasn’t blood and Simon wanted to throw it up but he needed to get out of his head. 

Clary was busy with Clave stuff, sorting everything out and proving she shouldn’t be sentenced to death, so Simon was alone and he couldn’t be there for Clary as she went through this. 

Simon dropped his head on the bar, feeling a little buzzed but mostly like he was going to throw up.

“Chin up Lewis,” Jace remarked and sat down next to Simon. “Two shots of whatever he's having,” he told the bartender. “Unless you're a lightweight who can only handle one shot.”

“I can handle it,” Simon said, ready to defend his honor. The bartender set down two shots in front of them. Simon took both and before he could think the better of it drank both back to back. He slammed them down and stared at Jace in his dumb mismatched eyes. 

Oh, yeah he definitely felt that. 

“One was for me,” Jace said after a beat of silence. And ordered another shot.“But definitely impressive.” 

“Thanks,” Simon gritted out and held up two fingers. “I am ready to get fucked, in both ways.” 

Jace snorted and took a shot glass in his scarred fingers. “To getting laid.” 

Simon picked up his shot glass and clinked it against Jace’s. “To getting laid,” Simon said then he and Jace took the shots. 

Jace looked over his shoulder. “Anyone in particular?”

“No,” Simon said, not looking. “I just want someone to take my mind off things, ya know?’

“Not very healthy, so I’ve been told,” Jace pointed out. “But once in a while, some drinks and a  _ no strings attached deal _ is fine.” Jace turned back to Simon. “It’s why I’m here.”

“Anyone on your mind?” 

“There is,” Jace said. “But I can’t have them without any strings.” 

“Who, it better not be Clary,” Simon wasn’t ready to start a bar fight but for Clary, he could manage with his cloudy mind. 

“No, It’s not her, they—”

“So its a guy?” Simon was feeling the liquid courage working. “I mean using them is how I usually do it, I really am lookin’ for a them,” Simon swallowed thickly his spit feeling weird. “I’m bi so I don’t care.” 

“Mundanes have a word for everything,” Jace said. “But you're not wrong.” 

“Cool, who is it, I bet I could help you, as long as you help me, this is a Mafia-type deal,” Simon put a hand on Jace’s shoulder. Simon put on his best Italian accent that would get him banned from Olive Garden. “So what do you say,?” 

Jace chuckled. “No you can’t help me with him but I’m looking for just a one night stand tonight.” 

“Alright, Waylan—Morgen—Lightwo—Herondale,” Simon shook his head. “Whatever the hell your last name is, I am going to—” Simon could hardly remember what he was doing here, oh yeah sex. “I am so drunk but I will get you a hot date.” 

“I’m sure you will,” Jace said, only one shot in him, that beautiful bastard was mostly sober. 

Time to change that. “Two more shots, man,” Simon told the bartender. “Drink up, Jace, I’m gonna need you  _ drunk.”  _ Simon slurred. “Like I am.” 

***

They were unsuccessful, well Jace got fucked up but it just didn’t work with anyone. 

“I know what we should do,” Simon leaned against the outside the random bar that Simon forgot the name off. “Go to another bar, maybe a gay one, those are nice,  _ RuPaul's Drag Race _ is the….good.” 

“I know what we should do,” Jace leaned against the brick, very close to Simon. “We could fuck.” 

Simon laughed. 

“It’s obvious, no one wants to mess with a daylighter with the Mark of Cain and no one currently feels like goin’ with a Shadowhunter, so, ”Jace pointed between them. “So you and me.” 

“Yeah but we hate each other,” Simon said, even though he didn’t hate Jace. “I mean we both wanted the same girl so we can’t like each other, it how it works.” 

“It’s just sex, it doesn’t have to mean anything.”

Hate sex is one of Simon's fantasies. “This could ruin the whole group dynamic.” 

“No strings,” Jace whispered. 

“Yeah, I can do no strings,” Simon said even though he didn’t know if he could do no strings with  _ Jace.  _

Jace moved to stand in front of Simon. “As long as your sure?” His hands slid over Simon’s waist.

“Yeah I’m sure,” Simon said as Jace leaned forward to kiss him, testing the water and the taste of each other's lips. “Where should we…” 

“Your place, the Institute never sleeps,” Jace said, his breath hot in Simon’s ear. “So your place,” Jace kissed him again, with more passion and force, his hands holding Simon waist tightly and pressed him against the wall. Simon grasped at Jace’s shoulders and curled his fingers around the hard muscle.

“Okay,” Simon pushed against Jace, to find that he was hard against Simon’s cock. Jace moaned and ducked his head into the crock of Simon’s neck. “Okay,” Simon pushed Jace back. “We should get a move on,” Simon adjusted his pants. “My place is like...” Simon swallowed down the bile that threatened to come up the throat. “A block and... something far away.” 

“Good,” Jace said, making some adjustments of his own and starting to walk.“By the angel, Simon,” Jace turned back. “Lead the way,” he held out an arm to the street.

***

Simon closed the door to his room, even though his place was empty. “You walk fast,” he told Jace as the shadowhunter looked around. “I mean of course you—” 

Jace cut him off with his lips over Simon’s and his hands on Simon’s hips, Jace was about to push on the bed, Simon ducked down, the Mark of Cain glowed on his forehead, didn’t send out a blast but Simon could feel it. “Maybe we shouldn’t be rough?”

Jace laughed and helped him stand straight. “I have a better idea,” Jace kissed him again, his hands careful not to be too hard. Jace pulled back and spun them so he could fall back on the bed. He sat up so he could pull his jacket and shirt over his head “Are you just going to stare all day or are you going to join me?” 

The thing was Simon could  _ stare all day,  _ Jace laid out on his blue comforter, his silver necklace settled on his collar bones, a silver chain that held a matching ring engraved with black swirls, his torso covered in scars and runes, elegant like calligraphy, dark against his white skin, shiny skin over hard muscle, his hair loose and fanned out on the pillow under him, his lips twisted into a smirk. 

“Come on, man,” Simon’s throat was dry but he wasn’t going to let that stop him. “You  _ walk  _ around shirtless, I’ve seen all this before, everyone’s seen this before.” 

“Probably haven’t seen better.”

“That's where you're wrong,” Simon took off his own shirt, with less grace, but it got the job done. “I’ve watched porn. I’ve seen much better guys.”

“But not in your own bed,” Jace gestured to himself and propped himself up on his elbows and took off his pants and underwear. So he gazed up at Simon naked, his cock hardened as the two stared. 

Simon climbed on the bed, on his knees at the edge of the bed. “This whole thing,” Simon gestured to Jace on the bed, naked without an ounce of shame. “Ment that I top right?” 

“Yeah, why not.” 

Simon nodded, thankful he was still a little buzzed to take the edge off. Simon straddled Jace’s hips, it brought their cocks together, a layer of denim between them but it made Jace moan and Simon leaned over to bring their lips together. 

It was like a cataclysm, a supernova as they touched each other with a fire under their fingertips that scorched the skin right to the nerve endings made each other jolt. Jace’s hands ran all over him, they settled on his ass and Simon settled his in Jace’s hair.

Simon kissed down Jace’s neck eager for more, like a starving man he nipped in Jace’s neck and kissed over his collar bones, avoided his necklace, he wanted to taste  _ Jace  _ with the vodka on his tongue. Simon twirled the strands of hair in his hand, his fingers spun and pulled at Jace’s hair that was spun like silk.

Jace threw his head back as their cocks met at a good angle that made Simon grid into him again. Jeans still on, the friction of the denim felt like sparks over him, electric currents over his body like bands and tendons. 

Jace’s fingers curled around Simon’s belt loop. “It seems a little unfair,” Jace said, Simon pressed into his cock again, rough and assistant like the gravitational pull that drew them together. “You’re not self-conscience are you,” Jace continued. “Because—” 

Simon shifted and pulled apart Jace’s legs, he knelt between them and licked his lips. He discarded his shirt and ran his hands over Jace’s legs, feeling the muscles tensing and relaxing, changing like the wind with Simon’s touch. Simon pulled down his pants and left himself in his underwear.

Jace was impatient, he was already touching himself, his fingers tips like a dancers feet, like a warrior’s blade, hands skilled and perfect, rune-covered—small ones between his fingers and one like an eye on the back of his hand—and Simon covered Jace’s hand with his own. 

He took off his underwear and they were both naked (and somehow this was supposed to mean nothing) and Simon twisted Jace’s hand back to the mattress. Jace let him. This felt like a power play—-but it wasn’t a play because a play meant a fight and it wasn’t a fight, Jace was giving and giving and Simon wanted to take more, more and more until his buzzed brain had enough until he had  _ Jace. _

Simon kissed Jace, open-mouthed and messy, he licked into Jace’s mouth. Simon’s hand’s trailed over Jace’s body, down his arms, over his stomach, and down the v slope of his hips and the curves of his thighs. 

Jace shivered and arched to the touch and Simon just knew, like pieces of a puzzle falling into place with each broken breath fallen from Jace’s mouth into his. Jace is touch starved. Maybe he’s had sex, but he’s always been on top, maybe always touching and never really being touched all over like this. 

“Simon,” Jace breathed and Simon reached over him, opened the drawer of his nightstand. “Simon,” Jace repeated.

Simon smiled but set the lube down on the bed. “This your first time like this?” 

He could see Jace weighing his options but Simon knew the answer as he traced over Jace’s rim and around his thighs. 

“Yeah,” Jace admitted, he reached out and grabbed Simon’s lower arm. “Be careful.” 

Simo nodded. “How do you want to do this?” Simon asked, his on hard on aching with desire but he made himself wait, _ it would be worth it. _

“Me?” 

“Yeah I mean you’re the one who’s,” Simon gestured wildly, “ya know gonna be in the most discomfort.” 

Jace bit his lip. “We’ll figure it out as we go, whatever feels good.” 

“Yeah,” Simon looked down out of habit, right to Jace’s body, laid out and waiting for him to touch it. Simon ran his hand over a rune on Jace’s stomach. “What’s this one.”

“Parabatai.”

“Wait, can Alec feel all of this?” Simon jolted back.

“No,” Jace said, laughter in his voice. “The bond changes and right now we don’t need each other so the connection is weak, as weak as a soulbond can be.” 

“Soulbond, that's not creepy as fuck,” Simon muttered sarcastically. Jace leaned forward before Simon could ask another question, wrapped his arms around Simon’s shoulders and pulled him in for a kiss.

Simon let Jace control the kiss, he was soft, scared of triggering the mark on Simon’s forehead, neither quite sure how sensitive it is. Jace shifted under him, his hands came over Simon underwear but stayed on the waistband.

Jace pulled back, his hair fell back over the pillow, his eyes stared up at Simon and bent down to kiss under Simon’s ear. 

“Can I?” Jace’s breath tingled in his ear, warm and velvety against Simon’s cool skin. 

“Yeah,” Simon nodded just in case Jace’s couldn’t hear or Simon only said that in his head. “Go ahead.” 

Jace slid the underwear down Simon’s thighs and Simon helped get his underwear off his legs, Simon felt Jace’s intense gaze on him. 

Simon bit the dry patch of skin off his lip. Jace smirked but Simon saw through it, the cracks in his mask, arrogance over fear, porcelain over a sheet glass. Simon picked the lube off the bed, his vampire's ears caught the pounding of Jace’s heart and the little gasp Jace let out when he saw what Simon was doing. 

Simon stopped once he opened the lube, even intoxicated he didn’t want to do anything bad to Jace. Simon bent over Jace, lube held lose in his hand, a kissed Jace, tasted into his mouth and pulled back. 

“Are you sure?” Simon asked and their lips were still breath apart and Simon could see right into Jace’s eyes, the faint circles under his eyes covered my a messy layer of makeup and how his eyes were bloodshot. 

No strings. Just sex. 

“Yeah,” Jace said but he shifted under Simon.

“You’re not to drunk right?” 

“Simon,” Jace ran his hands over Simon’s back, his hands were warm and calloused against Simon’s bareback. “I have a fast metabolism, so do you we're both pretty good. I could kill a demon right now."

Simon nodded, moved back between Jace’s legs and coated his finger in lube, with one final look at Jace he inserted his finger into Jace’s tight hole, helped along by the lube. Jace’s legs trembled and his hands gripped the sheets. 

Simon puzzled for a second, Jace wasn’t touching himself, his cock was hard and leaking, begging to be touched. Then Simon put the pieces together, his Mark could have hurt Jace but he knew that from the start, because Jace had been flirting with him all night, Jace wanted to bottom, to be overwhelmed, to be taken care of. 

Simon smiled to himself and pushed in another finger and used his other hand to cover Jace’s hole in lube. Jace tightened, like bands around his fingers, his whole body held tense.

“You have to relax,” Simon reminded him. Simon draped himself over Jace and kissed at the corner of Jace’s mouth. Jace’s hands came up to tangle in Simon’s hair desperately tugging Simon closer. Then Jace moved, to the side a little and like and a star-forming and bursting to flame, brushed his cock against Simon just right and moved against Simon’s fingers. 

Simon added another well-lubed finger, Jace let go of him, fell flat, back-arched, his hands fell away, left behind imprints of his fire, red marks like burns as Jace flared up and couldn’t take it, all he could do was throw his head back against the covers and gasp and moan. 

Simon just held his hand still, so still, Jace almost started to move, hands almost came up, almost leaned forward to taunt, maybe tease, but Simon wanted to keep him like this. Laid out, like steel ready to be shaped. Simon removed his fingers, let Jace feel the loss. 

Then he pushed back in, like an arrow off a bowstring, Jace was burning alive, a fire Simon ignited from inside him. Simon kept forcing Jace to open farther, with each full trust of his fingers and each time he dragged his fingers out of Jace’s tight but welcoming hole, it loosened. 

Jace spread his leg apart, even more, he pushed his hips against Simon’s fingers but also retreated back, begging for more and less at the same time and getting neither in return. 

Simon removed his fingers completely, Jace's hips chased after his fingers, in need of more friction. Simon clasped his hands over Jace’s hips and pushed them back into the mattress. 

Jace’s wide eyes looked up at him, almost unblinking and glossed over, but he didn't fight, there was another thing in his eyes Simon could now place as he kissed Jace again. As Jace laid under him, as he let Simon's hands wandered over his thighs and stomach. 

_ Trust.  _

Simon pushed his three fingers back in, with some struggle but once they were in the velvety slide against Jace’s walls that became looser and Simon wiggled his fingers and pushed against the delicate bundle of nerves that made Jace’s mouth fall open, no words tumbled out but the look on his face was enough. 

“By the Angel, Simon,” Jace whispered as Simon dragged his fingers in and out a little, making sure Jace was ready. “Just do it already,” Jace ordered like he was begging for every pulse of Simon’s fingers with each move of his hips.  

“As you wish,” Simon smirked, he didn’t care if Jace didn’t get his reference he would make it anyway. With a final curl of his fingers, Simon left Jace’s hole empty and lubed up his cock, he reached for a condom and opened it with his teeth, he rolled it on with ease, took a second to make sure it was one right.  

Simon's sticky fingers splayed over Jace’s thighs as he lined himself up. A muscle in Jace’s jaw twitched and Jace closed his eyes. Simon pushed in, only a little bit then stopped, he let Jace get used to it. 

Let himself get used to Jace’s tightness. But he was too tight. “You need to relax,” Simon repeated and took measures into his own hands and took Jace’s cock in his hands. Jace jolted forward, further on Simon’s cock and his cock, secured in Simon’s hand, rubbed in just the right way that made him cry out.  

Simon slid in farther, squeezed Jace’s cock a few times until Jace’s head was thrown back and needy noises were the only things that escaped his throat. Simon rubbed over the foreskin and over the vein on the underside. Simon took his time, lead Jace into pain-pleasure, nails, and roses as Simon teased and roughly squeezed Jace’s cock, all while he slowly slid into Jace’s hole. Jace’s hands encircled his shoulders and held on to dear life.

Simon kept running his hand over Jace’s cock in the way he could Jace liked based on his moans. He kept going a quick pace, he drank up Jace's noises and let Jace move his hips, each time he wanted more. Simon slowed to a crawl, Jace pushed against his hand but Simon moved so all he reached was air. 

Simon’s hands slid over his Jace’s thighs, up and down the backs of them until Jace was so wound up, his own hand ventured to his cock. Simon watched as he stroked himself then joined in and took Jace apart slow enough for him to cry out until he came into Simon’s hand. 

Jace moved his head up to look at Simon, his cheeks were flushed and his body was relaxed enough for Simon to bottom out. Simon kissed Jace again, softly and ranked a hand through his silky hair. Jace’s hands on his shoulders pulled him in closer. Simon kissed Jace’s check and started to move. 

Slowly and carefully he moved in small circles, Jace latched on tighter and pressed his head into Simon’s shoulder. Simon let the pleasure roll over him, overwhelming and wonderful and Simon realizes he’s started to move in large thrusts, in search of more, hungry, starved like he’s wandered the desert for years.  

Jace twitched and gasped and Simon held his thighs apart, dipped his head down to see where he enters Jace, a ghost of touch around Jace’s rim has the poor, almost incoherent shadowhunter shuddering and jerking, forward and back. 

Jace’s hole clutched Simon’s cock, sporadically and it was maddening but Simon delighted in it, pleasure boiled under his skin, consumed him until every cell, every nerve jumped to life, coated Simon in red tongues of fire. 

Simon let it all wash over him, drank up every feeling that went through him like a vortex, strands of silk spiraling out like a maypole. Jace took a long deep breath, some of the tension eased from his limbs and torso, his rune covered body relaxed against the covers, the black calligraphy etched into his skin seemed to whisper and hum to a song that murmured between Jace’s breaths.

Simon own legs tensed as he held himself still as stone inside Jace, let both of them just feel it for a moment. Simon started to move again, he didn’t start slow, he set a quick brutal pace, pulling out till only the tip was still in Jace then he slammed back in, fully sheathed himself inside Jace, over and over again. Until he was teetering on the edge, the symphony from Jace’s mouth cheered him on. Needy cries and choked breaths, from his kissed swollen lips and bright white teeth. 

Simon gritted his teeth, inside him, his body made its own song, louder and louder did the song ring, building to a crescendo and he and Jace were now the only ones in the world or the only ones who mattered. Simon keep hitting that sweet spot inside of Jace, his prostate, it made Jace completely let Simon wreak him.

Wreak him Simon did.  Simon didn't stop nor slow his thrusts, forced him to take all that Simon gave him, Simon didn’t realize he was holding Jace down until his song, until the fire inside him burned brighter and the song reached its breaking point and pushed him off the edge, made him fall into a beautiful release. He came into the condom and stayed for a moment. 

He kissed Jace on the corner of his mouth and lingered on Jace's lips. They lazily kissed and Simon eased his way out. He removed his hands from Jace and disposed of the condom quickly.

He stopped in his bathroom to get a get towel and wipe himself off, the shots of vodka helping him not to panic over the fact that he just slept with Jace and it was amazing.

No strings.

He could do that. 

(Maybe) 

Simon washed his hands off and went into his closet and put on a  _ Star Wars  _ t-shirt that Mrs. F had gotten for him a few years ago, it was age-worn and very comfortable and opened his dresser to get sweatpants.

Simon shook his head at himself, he needed some sleep. Simon changed the sheets and not for the first time wished he had a washer and dryer in his place but rolled up and in the hamper would have to do. 

Jace exited the bathroom, back in his underwear and shirt. “Do you mind if I crash here?” Jace asked already he smoothed out the new sheets (that were actually old ) and sat down. 

“No, why?” Simon sat down on the bed too, still drunk and still in need of some shut-eye. 

“I can’t go back to the Institute,” Jace didn’t meet Simon’s gaze and stared at the wall by him. 

“Are you still kicked out," Simon flopped down on the mattress and started up at Jace’s jaw. 

“No, Simon,” Jace said with surprising softness. “I just don’t want to go back.” 

“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk to me about it,” Simon fought the urge to reach out and take Jace’s hand, maybe even kiss him. It made sense, he was the Owl and now everyone saw him differently, it was also normal to want time alone after being mind controlled into killing people. “Have you talked to Alec and Izzy.” 

“Not yet.”

“You should.” 

“You should sleep, Simon,” Jace laid down next to him, both on top of the covers in various states of drunkness.

“I should,” Simon muttered, mostly to himself. “I also might throw up.” 

Jace laughed even though it wasn’t a joke and Simon hauled himself to his feet and got a small trash can from his room. 

This time when Simon fell on the bed he made sure he did so under the covers. “You won’t be laughing when is throw up on you,” Simon shifted on his side and pressed his head into the pillow. “Stay at your own risk.” 

And suddenly Simon felt sad because of Jace, with ninja style grace Jace spun and rolled under the covers because things must be really bad for him to want to stay with Simon. 

“You didn’t sleep with me because you wanted to stay over right? Because I know we don’t always get along I would have gladly let you.” 

“I did it cause I wanted to,” Jace faced Simon. “This is just a plus,” Jace shifted and rolled his shoulder. “Why is this bed so soft,” Jace sat up and pushed down on it as if just noticing how it hugged to his body. “It feels like I’m going to go through it.” 

“It’s memory foam.” Simon closed his eyes, sleep called to him and Simon was too tired to say no as he found his hole in the mattress that he sunk into perfectly. “What’s your bed made of.”

“Springs,” Jace said. “It’s pretty old so…” 

“You should invest in….” Simon was on the border between sleeping and being awake so constructing sentences was a struggle. “This memory foam.”

“It’s weird.” 

“So is everything,” Simon said he felt as Jace laid back down and shifted again and again. Simon grabbed his arm, slightly annoyed, and stilled him. “Now sleep.” 

“I’ll try.” 

“Do you need a glass of hot milk?” 

Simon couldn’t see with his eyes closed but he felt like Jace was smiling. 

“Sleep, Simon.” 

For once Jace was on to something. 

 

***

Simon woke up in the middle of the night? Morning? Jace whimpered and breathed heavily,  he was sitting up, legs tangled in the sheets. His body was tense, fists curled and jaw clenched. Simon could only see the side of his face, he quickly moved to sit in front of Jace so he could look Jace in the eyes.

“Jace,” Simon whispered, careful not to scare him. Jace muttered words Simon couldn’t make out and his eyes landed on Simon. His eyes were frantic and his breaths came in short gasps for air, like he’d just been underwater and drowning. 

“I can’t—” Jace cut off as he tried to get more air, gulped it down then gasped for more. “I can’t breathe.”

He was having a panic attack, maybe a nightmare triggered it, it didn’t matter all that mattered right now was Jace, who was clenching and unclenching his fists. Desperately looking around for something to help him.

“It’s okay,” Simon soothed, he kept his voice as steady as he could. “You’re having a panic attack.”

Jace crumpled, hunched over and tried to get more air. “I know. They won’t stop.” Jace's chest violently rose and fell. He could only take short breaths.

Simon couldn’t dwell on the fact that he’s been having panic attacks. “You’re doing so good, Jace, but you have to take deeper breaths,” Simon reached out to touch Jace but he flinched back. 

Jace’s sat up a little and looked up, his eyes locked on Simon, the blinds are shut tightly and the only light is the clock on the nightstand but Simon can still see and smell the salt of the tears prickling in the corners of Jace’s eyes.

Jace sucked in a breath and held it for as he could, around three seconds before he released it and it sounded painful, like a sob and a cry mixed together and Jace took another breath, held it for a second, a noise like he’s being choked comes with the exhale.

“It’s okay,” Simon said softly. “I know you’re scared, but you’re here and I’m here.” Simon hoped he was helping. “And you need to breathe.” 

Jace tried and tried and soon he managed a deep breath and Simon noticed how his nails dug painfully into his palm and slowly reached his hand forward so that Jace could see every movement. He took Jace’s hands in his own and held them gently. Never did he take his eyes of Jace. 

Not as they sat on the rumpled covers, Jace in his underwear and T-shirt, runes engraved on his skin, some on his ankles (ceremonial and family ones), didn't look away as Jace calmed down, each breath still not even but slow enough he won’t drive himself to pass out. 

Jace held on to Simon’s hands, anchored himself with them as he pulled himself from over the edge of the endless abyss of fear and panic. Jace looked at Simon like he had all the answers in the world. 

“It’s okay,” Simon said even though his own life was falling apart. “None of it matters,” Simon wasn’t sure exactly what  _ it  _ was but he had an idea. “Not right now, right now—” Simon took a long deep breath and Jace copied him. “Just breathe.”

Simon started to talk, to give Jace something to focus on. He talked about science and music and nerd things until even he didn't know what he was talking about. He stopped and noticed how Jace's breathes had almost evened out

"Better?"

Jace nodded and his breath slowed and steadied out after a few more moments and matched Simon’s breathing. Jace lifted their intertwined hands and pressed his lips to the back of Simon’s hand in a slow kiss. The silence hung heavy the air. Alcohol mostly out of both their systems and the lovely buzz that made all their problems easier was gone, it ripped off whatever band-aid they stretched over the gaping wounds that covered their souls. 

“I’m sorry,” Jace broke the silence. “For waking you up.” Jace pulled his hands from Simon’s grasp and slipped off the bed to kneel on the floor and grabbed his pants.

“I don’t think you should be alone right now,” Simon said, Jace stopped like Simon’s words grabbed him and stilled him. “I don’t think either of us should be alone right now.”

Jace visibly swallowed. “I’m good now.” 

Simon shook his head but he kept silent as he and Jace stared at each other. Simon rolled back and pulled the covers up to his shoulders. “Sure you are,” Simon brought the covers up in an inviting arch. “Come on.” 

Jace hesitated, his eyes flashed to the open invitation on Simon’s bed and to the door. For a moment Simon thinks he might leave but wordlessly he slid under the covers and the striped sheet. He laid down facing Simon. His blue eye and his half blue half brown eye watched Simon. 

“So now what are you gonna do?” Jace asked after a long pause. “Now that all of this is over.”

“I don’t know.” Simon had been trying not to think of it. “What are you going to do?” 

“Things will go back to normal, hunt demons, train, have some fun.” 

“I don’t think things will ever be back to normal,” Simon said, sadder than he meant to. “Or at least not for some time, I need to work through my baggage. And I think I have a lot of baggage to work through. Like enough that I’d be charged like two hundred bucks if I was on an airplane.”

Jace’s lips twitched upward in a kind of smile and he relaxed fully into the soft mattress. “Mundanes are weird.”

“Yeah definitely,” Simon didn’t really see weird as an insult, because yeah he’s seen strange men walking around, naked except a top hat and eating a hot pretzel. And this was coming from a demon fighter with special blood and glowy swords. “Although mundane culture has its gems.” 

“Like what.” 

“Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, comics—Wonder Woman, Batman, Shadowhunters could learn a little for X-Men, I could go on.”

“All Shadowhunters have are old stories and poems.”

“Any good ones.” 

Jace shrugged. “Nothing you’d like.” 

“Probably,” Simon sighed and shifted on the bed, unintentionally bringing him and Jace closer. “I have many you’d love, even though you’d never admit it.” 

Jace chuckled and then the only sound was of their breathing, Simon closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep. 

He didn’t really sleep that night, he lingered in a place between. Unable to escape his own demons. Jace, he strongly suspected, did the same. 

***

Here's the thing about after a war, after your life is ripped away and now you have nothing to fight against. Here’s the thing about having everything ripped from you (having to pull the strings yourself), the thing with the aftermath, it feels like a calm before the storm, an uneasy quiet and the weight on Simon’s chest won’t loosen. 

Not when Clary is cleared of all charges, they deemed her semi-mentally unstable at the time of her asking for raise Jace and the Angel probably wouldn’t have granted much else, maybe would’ve killed her. 

The weight on his nonmoving chest since air had been lost on the floor of the Dumort and completely taken from him under pounds of dirt. 

—he still breaths sometimes when it seems like the only thing to do when he thinks he’s dying and he forgets for a second he’s already dead but not dead and it’s a strange middle he has no idea where he belongs—  

Here’s the thing about cutting ties with the New York Clan, betraying them for the sake of stopping a madman. He’s the thing about the Shadow World. Here’s the thing about regret and the guilt that he lived and bodies had littered the ground. Here’s the thing when it becomes too much and Simon falling apart. 

—he can’t die, he can only hurt and hurt and destroy,  _ unmake bodies. People exploded and they were marbles like they weren’t human—- _

Here’s the thing about crying your eyes out and saying you're fine, the right people see through it. 

“Simon,” Clary said kindly,  they were sitting on the floor for no good reason in Simon’s apartment. “You’re not okay, hell, I’d be concerned if you were.”

“Clary,” Simon’s voice sounded uneasy to his own ears. “I don’t know what to do.” 

Clary watched him with an intense gaze a rune-covered arm (scars too, many scars twisted with the runes because even the healing runes can’t heal all marks) reached for him, she paused and her fingertips were an inch from his shoulder. “Can I?”

Simon nodded and she braced a hand on his shoulder and pulled him in for a hug, Simon could feel and hear her heartbeat. 

“I don’t know what to do either but we’ll figure it out okay, Lewis,” she said like she was convincing herself too. “We’re Batman and Robin, we’re a fucking Demon Hunter and a Vampire. We got this.” 

Simon laughed a little and weight on his chest lessened. “Thanks, Fray,” Simon whispered. He clutched at her nonetheless. 

Clary pulled back and Simon didn’t miss the tear she wiped away. “Anytime, Batman.”

“I’m not Batman, you’re totally Batman.” 

“I don’t want to be Batman, I’m done with the brooding and shit. And you’re the vampire, who in a lot of stuff turn into bats.” 

“I’d rather be Superman and I think you’re Wonder Woman now. We’ve outgrown Batman and   Robin.”

“Clark and Diana are best friends, right?"

"Definitely.”  

They watch mindless television and laugh till their stomachs hurt and Clary is resting her head in his lap. It’s like Before. 

“So I heard through the grapevine about your latest conquest,” Clary said with a glint in her eye and a smirk on her face. “Captain America himself, Jace Whatever-His-Last-Name-Is.” 

Simon pushed her off his lap and she sat up. “What?” he asked dumbly, because how the fuck.

“Well, Isabelle grilled Jace when he got back in the morning and forgot to heal his impressive collection of hickies Alec wanted to know too and Jace lied at first but Alec could tell because of the bond. Then Jace cracked.” 

Simon blushed and avoided eye contact. He mumbled incoherent noises. 

“So how was it?” 

“What?” 

“The sex,” Clary said slowly like he was a toddler. “You two went all the way right?” 

“Yes,” Simon admitted. He wasn’t ashamed but she’d had a history with Jace. “You’re good with it?”

“Yeah, man, get some,” she said almost laughing but the laughter didn’t come as easily anymore. “Me and Jace are long done.” 

“It’s not like it’s a  thing, I mean it’s definitely a thing but it's a one-night thing.” 

“That bad?”

“No, not bad,” Simon quickly answered, too quickly. 

“Just okay, then.”

“It was good. Great even.” 

“Did you bottom or top?” Clary asked because of course, she does, because she knows he’s a switch. 

Simon considers answering but then decided that not answering is kinda answer. “Top.”

Her eyebrows raise because Jace always seemed like a top he radiated big dick energy and control and masculinity issues. “Okay,’ she said and shifted so she could lay down flat on her back. 

“Okay,” Simon echoed and scooted forward to mirror Clary.

"All right fine. I'll stop, your clearly done."

“Great read, cause I am.” 

Clary really laughed this time and so did Simon.

***

Simon ended up at a club two days after the bar. It wasn't a problem. He just felt horny and was looking for a good time.

The vodka felt like broken glass sliding down his throat. He drank it nonetheless and as he was preparing to talk to a mundane girl when Jace walked the bar. 

_ Damn it,  _ Simon had positioned himself so that he could see the door, paranoia is normal, and now he couldn’t take his eyes off Jace as he poured in behind a couple. 

He looked like he hadn't slept in days, his hair was a mess and he held his seraph blade up and ready. 

The music blared and neon lights flashed, colorful hair and different shades of skin and flashes of bold makeup and outfits as people became a swarm of bodies pressed close together. Simon could hear the hearts beating but tried to focus on the loud bass of the music. 

Jace's eyes flickered over the crowd, he was looking for something. Simon could tell he was entirely glamoured by the way no one noticed him and how Jace carried himself that he was in Shadowhunter Mode. Jace strutted forward and held out his blade. The lights of the club danced on the blade of the sword.

He stopped as Simon came into his view. "Seelies' like clubs," Jace offered as an explanation. "A wanted one was seen on this side of town."

Simon nodded and Jace sat down. No one was paying attention so Jace undid his glamor rune with a swipe of a stele. His arms were covered in many more scars from faded runes and battle scars than Clary. It amazing how much more you notice in the lights of a club.

"Won't the others miss you?" Simon asked as Jace made himself comfortable. 

"I'll make something up," Jace's eyes followed the lines of Simon's body. Simon let him look. 

"Of course you will," Simon said. "Want a drink."

"Nope."

The air between shifted, the electrifying feel was back and the flashed as Simon stood up and left crumpled cash on the bar could counter and wrapped his fingers around Jace's wrist and they walked out of the club. 

Outside was so quieter, more peaceful but Simon didn't have time to appreciate it as Jace pressed him against the wall of the club, Simon could feel the vibrations from the music through his back. Jace's lips were over Simon's in seconds. 

Simon lifted his hands to grip Jace's hair and Jace held at his ribcage. Simon enjoyed what came next; the fight, their tongues battled and Simon tested Jace's grip. Jace seemed to be more into the fight this time but he still gave away easily. 

A fire ignited inside Simon and he flipped them, Jace let himself be pressed against the wall and Simon controlled the kiss. Jace tightened his grip like he thought Simon would slip away. Simon remembered all Jace has been through and let Jace cling to him. 

Simon was desperate to feel human again, to feel someone against him. To quiet his mind and control something. Simon pressed his lower half into Jace and drank up the broken moan from Jace. 

Jace rolled his head back and Simon kissed along the column of his neck and nipped. A strange possessiveness came over him. He wanted to mark Jace as his. Wanted people to see the marks on Jace.

“I thought you said no strings,” Simon said from his place at Jace’s neck. 

“This isn’t strings, it’s just round two,” Jace said.  “And besides you’re the one who dragged me out here.” 

Simon stopped and rolled his eyes. “For real? You knew what you were doing when you came over to my seat.” 

“You must really be horny,” Jace ran a hand through his hair but all it did was mess it up more. “I didn’t even have to flirt.” 

“Would’ve wasted time,” Simon muttered in his own defense. 

“Whatever you say.’ 

Simon's hands slid down Jace and pinned his hips to the wall. Simon resumed his ministrations of Jace's neck. Enjoying the feeling of Jace growing hard against him. His own arousal pressed against Jace to feel. Just the memory of inside of Jace made the heat inside Simon swell.

"Get on with it," Jace growled like he was in the place to be giving orders. 

"Here?" Simon asked. "Where anyone can see us," Simon kissed as Jace's collarbones. 

"No," Jace said but he didn't move.

Simon pressed himself against Jace and the fabric of his jeans created the friction he needed. "The club has a rule against this inside."

Jace laughed and Simon realized that Jace had decided to do with without an ounce of alcohol in his system. 

No strings. Just sex. 

"What if the Seelie comes out here and kills us both," Simon murmured against Jace's skin.

"They won't, she slipped from us hours ago but we've been too stubborn to stop," Jace's voice was stone on stone and Simon could tell that he was fighting to maintain composure. 

Simon was buzzed, he was tired on top of all of that and he wouldn't remember this moment in the morning, only the daze, the blur of pleasure. 

"Then you're all mine," Simon's hand curled around Jace's cock. 

Jace kissed at Simon's shoulder and gripped at him. He didn't say anything. Simon's hand slithered back to hold at Jace's bare hip. 

"Say it," Simon whispered in Jace's ear and he wouldn't remember this outside of a dream and a strange feeling from the whirlwind of a memory. He'll block it from his mind because if he stops he'll realize what Jace said. 

"I've always been yours, Simon."

Simon took Jace's hand and pulled him into an even more secluded space. A two-minute walk to a behind section of abandoned and closed buildings.  No busy people streaming in and out. 

Simon pushed Jace back against the new brick wall. Jace's pupils were dilated and his necklace had fallen out of his shirt. The family ring shinned. Simon pulled off Jace's jacket  Jace looked around again. 

Simon pulled their lips close together. "Look at me."

Jace did. He watched Simon with his different colored eyes and small hitches of breath and pounding heart. 

Simon stopped suddenly. "I'm not taking advantage of you right." Simon was drunk he wasn't sure if he even wanted this. 

"I could leave anytime I wanted too.”

"Okay," Simon steadied himself and was half he was drunk so he didn't do anything stupid like stop and think. He unwrapped Jace from his armor and blades and took off his belt and pulled Jace's pants down to his thighs. 

Simon also won't really remember this either, outside of dreams and fuzzy memories he wants to forget. Jace was trembling, Simon had him in his hands and Jace shook with something like desire and need. Jace gasped at the slightest touch. 

"You'll have to be quiet," Simon whispered and Simon realized this was going to be so sloppy.

"Don't fuck me out here," Jace said. "You jerk me off and I'll repay the favor."

"I'll do you one better," Simon dropped to his knees in front of Jace. Without any hint of shame, Simon licked at the top of Jace's cock and the underside. Jace jerked forward and Simon raised his hands and pushed Jace's hips back.

Simon took Jace deeper in his mouth and his eyes never left Jace's. Simon swirled his tongue around and took Jace even deeper. Jace bucked against Simon's grip and his hands tangled in Simon's hair and brought him closer. 

Simon breathed through his nose and continued to lick and suck. He didn’t take his eyes off Jace and it hit him with startling clarity unless Jace had been drinking on the job, he was entirely sober. Simon could hear Jace’s heart pound, Simon didn’t want to think about what was happening. He didn’t want to feel anymore. 

So he didn’t. (That’s what the alcohol is for). He just wanted to feel a living body next to him—  the skin under his fingers, the drum of a heartbeat, the blood flowing—- 

“Simon,” Jace gasped, he arched and his eyes fluttered shut. He mumbled out more incoherent words and noises. Eventually, he tore his hand from Simon’s hair and bit at his forearm.

Simon won’t remember this in the morning (that's the point) but a tear rolled down Jace’s check. Simon was distracted as Jace came in his mouth and Simon swallowed all of it, he didn’t taste it, it went down like the vodka, unnatural. It wasn’t blood but it didn’t matter, Simon felt the fire inside him light, he was wrapped tight in want and need. 

Jace pulled Simon up to his feet, a little wobbly Simon fell into Jace’s chest, he rested his head against the beating heart. 

“Now I get to do you,” Jace whispered in his ear, he rearranged them, zipped his pants up and pressed Simon against the wall, gentler than Simon had done to him. Simon was panting even though he didn’t need to breathe. 

He felt alive. 

Jace unzipped Simon’s pants and covered Simon’s dick with his hand, Jace tucked himself against Simon and they clung to each other. It was almost pathetic. Simon pressed his head against Jace’s shoulder, the collarbone dug into him and thrust into Jace’s hand, changing the angle to one that made him moan. 

Simon’s hips jerk forward and Jace’s arm around him pulled him closer and whispered in Simon’s ear. Simon couldn’t make out the words too stimulated and thought the fog of his mind all he could make out was hushed words in Jace’s breathy and husky voice that fleets like the wind. 

Both of them move in sync, Simon pushed into Jace’s hand and Jace tugged and squeezed and smoothed his hand over Simon’s cock. 

“Oh yeah, right there.”

“Simon,” Jace said, louder and clearer and he stroked Simon just as he’d done before eliciting a moan from Simon as waves of pleasure ranked over him and made his body jerk forward, need in Simon’s every cell.

He will slightly remember this but will push it to the back of his mind and excuse it for being drunk. “I’m yours too, Jace,” Simon’s voice was rough when he spoke and it was cut off with a moan as Jace’s fingers danced over Simon’s cock. “But you don’t like that near as much as—” Simon cut off and captured Jace’s lips. He controlled it and took Jace’s bottom lip between his teeth. “Being mine.”

“Simon,” Jace said and that seemed to be all he could say. “Simon.” 

“You like when I take control,” Simon flipped them and Jace’s head fell back against the brick. Simon rutted against Jace and used his own hand to jerk himself off. He took Jace’s hand and made it rub him from the hilt to the tip. “Keep doing that.” 

Jace said nothing but did as Simon said and soon Simon was on the edge, his mind was clouded and body alight and burning as Jace fueled it. Simon joined Jace’s hand and with the right touches, he was coming all over Jace’s hand and a little on his pants. 

Simon didn’t say anything. He didn’t know what to say this time. Jace rubbed the come off his pant with a little spit and picked his jacket off from the ground. “I have a hunt to get back to.” 

“Yeah,” Simon looked away from Jace’s eyes, not taking the time to drink him in. “I need to get a drink.”

“You probably shouldn’t,” Jace said and pulled back on the top layers of his gear, even took the seraph blade in hand, making it glow a bright blue. “Aren’t you underage.” 

“Fake ID,” Simon even pulled it out and flashed it in front of Jace but in the dark street with no lights for a while, it was impossible for Jace to make it out. “And it’s not a problem I just—-I can’t dance and I can’t just sit at the bar and not drink anything.” 

“They have non-alcoholic drinks.” 

“And look like a pussy, no thank you.” 

“Whatever, you’re immortal do what you want.”

“I will,” Simon said and turned his back to Jace just in time to see two guys coming down the road, with crowbars and one of them had a gun held up at Simon. 

One was taller and with bleached hair, the other had long brown hair, they were both white and lanky and dressed in leather jackets over worn down shirts that were once black but now faded to grey and baggy blue jeans. 

“Hands up,” the taller one said and aimed his handgun at Simon. Frantic, Simon looked back for Jace but he’d vanished into the shadows. Simon raised his hand up slowly. “Good boy,” he crooned. 

The shorter one walked up to Simon and groped through his pockets, Simon could see tattoos all over his hands and up to his wrists. Simon tried not the flinch and prayed to God, even though he hasn’t been to church in a while he prayed that the men wouldn’t hurt him and that the mark wouldn’t go off.

He pulled out the seventeen bucks of cash he had left on him, he always keeps cash on him for emergencies. The Praetor Lupus sends him checks to stay out of trouble until he gets back on his feet. The shorter guy sighed and continued to find nothing else of value.

“He got anythin’ good?” The taller one asked.

“Nah,” the shorter one held up the twenty. “But a pretty boy like this outta be worth something.” 

“Jimmy’s been lookin’ for a new toy.”

“Please no,” Simon begged. “I won’t tell anyone something happened.” 

“Shut him up,” the taller one said and took out his phone. “I gotta’ get a good pic. On his knees.” 

The shorter one smirked and aimed a punch at Simon but before it could connect the forcefield that surrounded him activated and a blue glow pushed back the attacker. Simon cringed and backed away. 

Fear laced around his heart and he really didn’t want to hurt anyone else, the attacker lay on the ground curled in a fetus position in far more pain then what Simon would’ve been in. 

Simon didn’t say anything but locked eyes with the confused taller man. “What the hell,” he yelled and looked around for an explanation. 

The only thing Simon could do was run but in the confusion, the taller one started to shoot at Simon. When Simon looked back he looked terrified and the hand that held the gun trembled. “Stay where you are,” a weak voice demanded.  

If a punch did that to the other guy, what would a bullet do? Simon stopped. “Please don’t.” 

“The hell was that,” he didn’t seem to hear Simon. “Try ‘at again and I'll shoot your sorry ass.”

Simon but his lips but didn’t move. He didn’t say a church prayer just begged God to show mercy to this man. “Please,” Simon repeated and he was just giving a blowjob and getting a handjob, how was this happening  

Just his luck. He blamed Jace.

The shorter man got up, slowly he steadied out his legs and still clutching his side and grinning he got to his partner. “Come on Davie, I’m tellin’ ya shoot ‘em.” 

“I know,” Davie said. “But come on I’m tired and no one carries cash on ‘em so get a good price on this one. If he is whole.” Davie turned to the other guy and put a hand on his shoulder that was more a threat than anything. “Now, halfling change your mind.” 

The shorter rolled his eyes at the nickname. “Sam is a family name it has nothing to do with hobbits.” 

Simon looked between the two crooks—Davie and Sam—and considered his options. Getting into the black market was never good. He sent a final prayer whispered in the wind to whoever will hear it and charged. 

He ran, fast, faster than a normal person ever could and with the element of surprise jammed his elbow into Davie’s arm and made the gun fall to the ground, he kicked it as far as he could. A fist almost connected to Simon’s neck, almost the punch thrower—Sam—was thrown back and the impact and a lot more. The blue shield protecting him was strong and he hopped Davie would run. 

He didn’t. He spat on the pavement and aimed a fist at Simon’s head but fell to the ground with holding his head. Simon raced over and picked up the gun with shaking fingers and his spidey sense was tingling. 

He turned around and Jace was standing there, blade in hand and still as stone. Simon stared at him. He reminded himself it was Jace standing in the shadows, not the Owl, he was on a street not in some church with blood in the air and unmade men in front of him.

The crooks struggled to their feet and Simon hardly looked at them as they ran off, their minds were probably trying to come up with some explanation. Simon didn’t take his eyes off Jace as Jace stepped forward and he put his sword on his belt.  

“Are you okay?” 

“Okay,” Simon nearly yelled. “Okay.” Simon turned so Jace couldn’t see the tears. “Am I okay, what about them,” he gestured to the running figures in the blackness. “They’re lucky they’re not that strong or—” Simon cut off and quieted a sob against his hand. “I need to go home.” 

Simon wiped his tears and started to walk toward Jace, his place was a while away but he needed to get away from Jace before his head exploded. Jace reached out and grabbed Simon by his bicep. 

“Stop,” Jace said. He shifted his grip so it was gentler than before and even ran his fingers over Simon’s upper arm in a soothing fashion. All Simon felt was the cold air and numbness that came from drinking and fighting and not wanting to feel. “Take a moment, Simon.”

Simon didn’t need to but he took a breath, it was always how he calmed himself. It was a habit. It wasn’t what monsters did. 

“I know you’re scared,” the words were an each of a few nights ago, wrapped in the covers of Simon’s bed and the soft lights of the city. A far cry from now with a gun in Simon’s hand and the pavement below them, a veil of shadows over them. “They deserved it.”

“No, no they didn’t,” Simon got in Jace’s face. “They shouldn’t have gotten off free but not to have the fear of God in them and get pummeled by me. I could’ve killed them,” Simon lifted the gun and it felt like hundreds of pounds. “If he would’ve shot me, he’d be dead, maybe even his friend too.” 

“They’re fine,” Jace said, not affected by Simon’s anger and that made it all the worse. “It’s gonna be okay.” 

“No,” Simon pushed a hand against Jace’s chest. He pointed a finger at Jace. “Jace I can’t live like this, I can’t die like this. I attract danger and—” 

“It’s okay,” Jace interrupted and his hand—covered in fingerless leather gloves—cupped Simon’s face. Simon realized that he was shaking and tried to stop it, he was shaken to his bones but Jace didn’t need to know that, he stilled a little. He was fighting for control and already exhausted. “I’m going to make it okay,” Jace promised.  

Simon looked away from Jace but the gentle hand on his cheek urged him to look at Jace, even with tears in his eyes.  “How, Jace, you don’t even have your own shit together,” Simon snapped his voice harsher than he expected.

Jace bit his lip and his hand fell down onto Simon’s lower neck. Part of Simon wanted to get Jace’s too warm hand off him but in the freezing cold, he let himself indulge in Jace’s warmth. 

“I don’t know,” Jace said and they’re so close, lips mere inches apart and bodies chest to chest, all of Simon’s rage was drained and now he wasn’t intimidating Jace they were just two boys standing close together in the darkness. “But you helped me, so I’ll help you.” 

“Jace I just calmed you down, you’re probably going to have one again and they’ll be—” 

“I know. By the Angel, Simon I know I’m not cured of all this shit but Simon,” Jace’s voice was verging on desperation but Simon still didn’t understand. Even now, thanks to being attacked and half drunk  Simon can’t remember (doesn’t want to remember) can’t dwell on, people say things during sex that they don’t mean. 

_ ‘I’ve always been yours, Simon.’  _

“Jace,” Simon said because the silence was suffocating and Simon had no idea what to say. 

“Simon,” Jace whispered as if there was anyone to overhear. 

“What are we doing?” 

“Standing in the dark talking.” 

Simon nodded. “Call an uber for me?” 

“Sure.”

***

Jace walked into the Institute. Simon has gotten home safe and sound, maybe not really okay but who was. Jace was covered in sweat from hunting that Seelie all night and when he finally entered his room to take a shower Alec sat on his bed. 

“What were you doing?” Alec asked. 

“Hunting a Seelie,” Jace brushed past him and opened up his dresser, he didn’t want to sleep but he knew he needed it. Even stamina runes have limits. 

“You went missing for a while.” 

“We split up.” 

“You left,” Alec pressed a hand over the parabatai rune. “You had sex with Simon again didn’t you.” 

_ Damn it.  _ Jace had tried to block the bond as much as he could but Alec had felt Jace’s relief when Simon pinned in against the wall, the feeling of being on the edge of a blade and enjoying it. He’s always known when Jace goes and fools around, he says he can see it on Jace’s face and in his body language. 

“I knew it,” Alec continued, taking Jace silence as a yes. “Why are you going to him?” 

“Is it any of your business.” *

“Yes, it is.” 

“Because I want to, okay.”

“This is going to end badly Jace if you don’t open up.” 

“It’s just sex, Alec, we all can’t be like you and Magnus.” 

“Jace—” 

“Leave me alone, Alec.” 

“I’ll be here when you need me.” 

Jace curled his hands into fists, leaving half moons on his palms. “Alec—”

Alec turned in the doorway, his black hair looked a mess and Jace knew he didn’t look any better. 

“I just am going through a lot. I don’t know where to start.” 

“Talk to me,” Alec said and moved closer to Jace. “Let me feel your emotions more.” 

“I can’t.” 

“I know.” 

“I just—” 

“I know,” Alec put a hand on Jace’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “I’ll be here when you’re ready. I won’t judge, I’ll just listen and offer anything I can do to help.” 

“I know.”

Alec smiled sadly and left through the dark doorway and Jace showered and got ready for bed. Slowly he stalled his nightly routine, brushed his teeth twice, flossed and stared at his reflection for several minutes. 

When he finally falls into bed, alone and tense he forces himself to take even breaths and close his eyes. He dreams of Simon and blood and bodies and he sees the kills the Owl has done over and over again and it twists and twists and he doesn’t know what’s a memory and what isn’t. He wakes up with a scream on his lips.


	2. To Hold Me Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so it’s been over two months and I’m sorry for the wait but I wanted this to be perfect. 
> 
> But there’s only so many times you can cry over the same paragraph so here it is

Time marched on. Simon always knew the sun would rise in the morning, a day was twenty-four hours and the next the same. It was almost a comfort to know that time waits for no one, Shadowhunter, Vampire, Mundane, it doesn’t matter. 

Time didn’t wait for Simon to get his life together. 

He sat for a few days in his apartment, scared to leave, his hands would shake on the knob of the door but he didn’t open it for days. Drinking through his supply of blood, watching movies and TV, even reading some e-books. 

He slowly poured out more and more of himself. He was Jewish and in church, they would talk of souls, your being without a body, your  _ spirit,  _ what moves on when you die. When he was younger he imagined that your soul wasn’t just around your heart, it was spread over your whole body, like blood, and when something happens, or you do something, it cuts at you and some of your soul pours out of the wound.

His soul was dripping out of him. 

He was like a ghost, lingering in one place but he needed to get more blood, he needed to get out of his apartment. He didn’t call Clary, she was training, in both combat and Shadowhunter schooling, she was years behind and she couldn’t fit back into the Mundane World, like a puzzle piece chewed up and spit out that would never fit right again. 

Simon was the same.

But at six pm, when Hunter’s Moon opens, he forced his piece in and stepped outside, it was daytime but the sky was covered in a layer of clouds, dark ones rested on the horizon but Simon would be quick and entered the flow of people. They were like time—they didn’t care, didn’t wait. Simon set himself into a walk, the smallest noise setting him off, he was shaking, frazzled nerves alight and he couldn’t turn off his senses, he heard the beating of many hearts, the gallons of blood flowing, the music in their ears.

He walked, twitching and falling in step with the people, he walked because he didn’t trust himself to operate a car. What if there was a crash, the other person would surely die with the impact times sevenfold.

He got his blood and shoved it into his backpack and he started on his way back. 

 He froze, seeing Jace looking in the window of a pet shop, he blinked a few times to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. He took an unnecessary breath and walked up to stand next to Jace, the Shadowhunter was eyeing up a bluebird in a golden cage.

 “Hi,” Simon said and Jace jumped at his voice, his hand went to his belt, to his sword strapped to his belt. Jace wasn't in shadowhunter wear, just a grey shirt, and jeans, but still carried a sword. Which was probably glamoured to the mundanes, he was almost sure Jace himself wasn’t glamoured, there was an air to glamorous, a certain aura of sorts. 

“Hi.” 

“Whatcha doin’?” 

“Nothing.” 

“It seems like you’re looking at a bird,” Simon turned back to the cute little bird. “He’s cute. Wait is it some kind of demon?” 

“No,” Jace's fingertips grazed the glass of the shop and he didn’t tap he just pressed them there. 

“You know I always wanted a bird as a kid, I mean at some point in my childhood I’ve wanted like every kind of pet imaginable, I had a goldfish once, he only lasted like a week, but I never got another one of them.” 

“I…” Jace swallowed thickly, his head turned to look at Simon and once they locked eyes Simon went against his instinct to look away. “I had a bird.”

Simon saw something in Jace’s eyes that unnerved him, pain and vulnerability that he only saw when he had Jace against him, murmuring into his skin. “What kind?”

“A falcon.” 

Simon looked down at the bluebird, small and blue but shared wings and a beak with falcons, and sometimes that's enough. Younger, when he'd see a dad or even a man that looked like his own father he was hit with the pain of his own loss. Sometimes he still was. 

“What was his?” Simon tried and Jace nodded at the pronoun, “name?” 

Jace looks startled at the question, his hand fell from the glass and the name from his lips; “Sabriel.”

“An angel?” Simon guessed. 

Jace nodded. “Of miracles.” 

“Was he a good bird.” 

“Not at first, but yes, once he started to trust me. Before he would nip at my hand and peak at my skin. But I didn’t give up. I learned the skills of how to properly care for him. He was plucked from the wilderness, from my father—well not my biological father, by Valentine.”

Simon wanted to reach out and comfort him, hug him, offer something but all he gave was a nod and a quiet, “Go on.”

“I was given the bird to train it, make it obedient but I wasn’t harsh, I earned it’s trust, after some time,  I would talk to it, stay by it constantly, I would and sing. I would stroke it’s feathers and it would eat from my hand, I never blinded it, I couldn’t bring myself to. When I showed my father—Valentine—that Sabriel could follow instructions, to fly and come back, to retrieve, he snapped its neck and told me I was supposed to train the bird, teach it to be obedient, not teach  _ him  _ to love me.”

Simon reeled back and now he really wanted to touch and console Jace, and he did, he took Jace’s hand that had balled into a fist and opened his fingers and laced their hands together. 

Jace’s opened and closed his mouth, so unsure and unsteady, he tried to school his face, cover it with a mask but it didn’t work too well. 

“I’m so sorry, Jace.” 

“It happened a long time ago.” 

Simon knew that but Jace probably just pushed it down and never processed his emotions, thinking he would be weak for showing emotions. 

The wind started to blow stronger and like flipping a switch it started to pour down rain, the wind and rain working together to get under the overhang Jace and Simon stood under. The bird jumped back as the rain pounded onto the windows. 

They were getting soaked and Simon mentally calculated the risk/reward of the situation. “Screw it,” Simon said in relation to staying here and waiting it out. “Race you to my place,” Simon winked at Jace and started to run. 

His feet joined the rain pounding the pavement and he wished he would have worn a jacket to lift it over his head for some protection, but his place was a short distance away. Jace met his pace and they ran down the street, taking a left then a right, zigzagging out of the way of the hurrying pedestrians and making it into the lobby of Simon’s place, dripping wet.

Soaked to the bone Simon took the steps up, leaving a trail of water behind him, it doubled as Jace followed him up. 

He dug around in his pockets for a second and finally unlocked the door to let them in, ignoring Jace’s soft chuckles. 

Simon closed the door behind Jace and leaned against it, his clothing uncomfortably wet and sticking to his skin, he took a look at Jace and admired how his clothing was doing the same. Simon ran a hand through his hair, like the rest of him, water clung to it and pressed it into him. 

“I’m going to take a shower,” Simon walked down the hallway, he stopped in the bathroom door, flicked on the light, a warm glow filled the room, the white tiling on the floor and an off white and grey paint job over the walls. “Want to join me?’  

Jace looked shocked but shrugged and Simon slipped into the bathroom, taking his shoes and socks off.

Never in the history of the world has anyone ever taken off wet clothing gracefully. Simon pried his shirt from his skin and shimmied out of it, needing to unstick it a few times before it was fully off. Simon was bent over his jeans at his thighs trying to free himself when Jace walked in. 

He didn’t look up at Jace, just keep wiggling his jeans off, water had pooled under his shoes and in the creases of the ankles of his jeans. Simon managed to get it all but his boxers off. 

Jace had already taken off his shirt and was working on his pants, his hair falling into his face and the white tile was covered in little puddles. 

Simon turned away from Jace and stepped before the open glass door of his shower, he pulled his boxers off and threw them in the general direction of his shirt. 

He stepped into the glass and tile room and turned the shower on, setting the water to a hot but not scalding temperature. The hot water soothed his bones and he stood under it, not moving. 

Jace entered the shower, closing the door, it was like a world of their own. Simon had needed a shower and what a way to get one. Simon let the water run over his head, pretending not to care about Jace standing naked by him. 

Jace came up behind him, the muscled planes of his chest against Simon’s back, he pressed his lips against Simon’s neck. “Round three?” 

“I need to actually take a shower first.” 

“Then?” 

Simon turned and brought their lips together, he pulled back, tasting Jace on his lips with a tingle of fire. “Round three.” 

They took turns washing each others body and hair, near the end both were half hard and Jace was almost shaking under Simon’s deft fingers. Simon backed Jace up against the wall of the shower, his own shaky breath mixing with Jace’s, all contained in a world of heat and mist. 

“Why were you out today?” Simon asked, his hands skimming over Jace’s thighs, the shower sprayed over his back, electricity always flows better through water. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Jace smoothed Simon’s hair back and captured Simon’s lip, tugging at his bottom lip, insistently grinding his body against Simon, the fire from under Jace’s skin traveled up Simon’s spine. 

Simon could almost see it, Jace’s soul being poured out from his body, cuts over his body, he ducked down and kissed where he imagined the cuts rested. Tender and soft and Jace was so unused to it—tenderness—he gasped and shuddered. His arms came around Simon and held him close, Simon’s lips bruised at his neck, his chest, his stomach. 

“Simon..” 

Simon dropped to one knee, Jace’s head was thrown back, his throat strained and holding in all his noises. He held onto his control,  but Simon was eager to take that form him. He held onto Jace’s hips and pulled them ever so slightly forward, spread Jace’s legs he gave Jace’s cock a kiss, feather-light but went past it to tongue at Jace’s hole.

 Jace jolted in Simon’s hands at the sudden invasion but he didn’t stop Simon, he was drawn so tight but as Simon lapped at his hole he melted, his walls dropped, crumbling under Simon’s hands. He was practically sitting on Simon’s face so Simon hooked his hands around Jace’s knees and pulled them up to his shoulders. 

His hands weren’t unkind to Jace on his hips but they were firm, holding him against the wall, he wouldn’t have been able to do it before but now he could, he could keep Jace up in the air, exposed and flushed, water cascading down his rough skin, marked with burns of heavenly marks and scars.

A warrior of Heaven and he was all Simon’s at the moment, to hold and kiss and Simon was overwhelmed for a second, he licked into Jace, his tongue teased the rim and went back in, Simon didn’t taste anything but the texture was velvet and honey against his tongue, clamping around him. Simon pulled back and shoved two fingers up his ass. 

Jace almost fell, the slippery walls not helping but Simon held him tighter, one hand holding him by the hip and the over between his legs. Simon pulled his fingers out and pushed them back in, the stretch started to make Jace’s hips move but Simon held them against the wall. 

Simon spread his fingers out inside of Jace and watched as Jace felt it, moved back against the unyielding wall, his hands searched the wall for purchase, spread like wings, outstretched and trembling, burned and scarred. 

Simon pulled out his fingers and ducked his head past Jace’s hard cock to lick at his rim. He felt Jace sink into the touch, his legs over Simon’s shoulder hooked around him, his hands finally reached into Simon’s hair. 

Simon’s lips trailed back and he licked up Jace’s cock. He returned his two fingers to Jace’s hole, he took the tip of Jace’s cock into his mouth, it tasted like the body wash, hot water polled into his tongue but he didn’t mind, his taste was different since he came back, less sharp on anything but blood. 

He wiggled his fingers and Jace whined, looking like glass, fragile and breaking, but in the best way. Coming to life, letting himself have this, drinking it up. Water rushed over them, clean and hot and it feels so good over Simon’s body. 

He takes another inch of Jace into his mouth and another and more. Simon may be the one on his knees but he is in full control and Jace, always so sharp and ahead of everyone lagged behind, helpless and bursting. 

“By the angel,” Jace gasped, rocking against Simon as much as he can and Simon was painfully hard, he wanted to push Jace past what he thinks are his limits, take pain and twist it into pleasure, coax his desperation for someone to take control and not hurt him, and he would never go any farther without lube. 

Some pain is too much that even when turned to pleasure is still raw in memory. 

He can tell Jace is close, nonsense from his lips and tension in his body and his lips slid off Jace’s cock and his fingers curled around the tip of his cock, stopping him from coming. 

“Simon, please,” Jace begged. 

He unhooked Jace’s legs, using his vampire strength to hoist him to his feet and pull himself up. He captured Jace’s lips and dragged Jace back to turn off the shower spray, the mist and heat lingered in the closed up shower.  

His tongue explored Jace’s mouth, the Shadowhunter gripped at him and Simon held him back. Taking and giving and balancing Jace and himself. 

He opened the glass door, cold air seeped in and Jace and him were dripping wet, he grabbed a towel and quickly ran it over his body, Jace took one for himself, water still dripped from Jace’s hair when Simon whisked him away to his bedroom.

The blinds were shut but a little sunlight crept through the cracks, softly lighting his bed and he and Jace fell onto the mattress together, the bed shifted and the covers rumpled but Simon didn’t care. He stole Jace’s lips again and Jace fell back, his hands clawed at Simon’s ass.

 He spread his legs and turned his head to the side, away from Simon’s eager lips. “Get on with it.” 

Simon didn’t. He took the lube and a condom out, uncapped the lube with some struggle and coated his fingers with it and started back at just one finger, pressed against Jace’s walls, his skin still wet with droplets of water. 

Simon added another finger, taking his time out of spite, Jace was so complex, saying one thing but Simon knew how much he loved it drawn out like this. He even reached for his cock but Simon took his hand and pushed it back. 

He smirked and reached back for the nightstand, a toy he’d bought on a whim for some fun, he slipped it over Jace’s cock and fitted it sung against his base, Jace didn’t say anything or move so he adjusted it, making sure it wasn't dangerously tight. 

Jace pushed himself up on his elbows and stared down at it, he inhaled sharply and Simon ran a hand over his cock. “Do you want me to take it off?” he asked.  

Jace shook his head. “When do you get that?” 

Simon resettled down between Jace’s legs, his fingers sprawled over Jace’s thighs. “It was on sale on Amazon, way too good of a sale to pass up. Figured I’d use it sometime.” 

Jace smirked and his hands rooted themselves in Simon’s hair and pressed their lips together in a fiery kiss. Simon quickly repositioned his fingers to sink back inside Jace—two scissoring. 

Jace was pulled taut, any relaxation he had vanished, he was tense and thrusting into the air and his ass onto Simon’s fingers, skin damp and an arm thrown over his head.

 Simon added a third finger, stretching him out and Jace spread his legs more, opening up but this time with some shame, he wouldn’t look at Simon, the lack of alcohol in one of their systems and coming back for thirds and maybe he could feel it too. 

The strings that latched themselves onto each other, pulled them to each other, both desperate for this with someone they can trust. 

Simon kept taking his fingers all the way out and plunging them back in, Shadowhunters always did everything so efficiently and fast and Simon was taking his time, ghosting over his rim and kissing at his hips and leaning over to kiss his lips. 

“Simon,” Jace moaned and his hands unlatched from Simon’s hair to tangle in the covers and sheets, even hid his face in the crook of his elbow. 

Simon stopped, his thumb traced over Jace’s rim, sensitive and stretched. “Look at me,” Simon said and he didn’t know why he wanted Jace to look at him so much but Jace didn’t ask. He pulled his face from his arm and opened his eyes, his pupils blow, and tears on the corners of his eyes.  

He went to hide his face again but Simon reached with his free hand and kissed him, held his head in place, cupped his jaw. The tears were like some of his soul dripping from his eyes, the balance of pain and pleasure maybe too much but Simon thought it was more, he knew it was more, something deep inside Jace was set free when they did this. 

It was agonizing when that happens but freeing, like falling and flying. “Don’t hide from me.” 

Jace gasped against his lips, he was falling and falling and he didn’t know Simon had him. “Simon.” 

“You trust me. Right?” Simon treated him like glass that moment, he was strong as steel sometimes, with his sword held tightly, saving people but he can’t always be steel, everyone is glass underneath it all, when the walls are dropped. He kissed Jace’s check, his jaw, his collarbone. 

“Simon,” Jace held his gaze but looked like it was hurting to look at Simon, desperate to hide and turn but he didn’t. Their faces were an inch apart and Simon kept leaving feather light kisses to Jace’s skin and keeping his fingers still inside Jace. “Yes.” 

Simon kissed Jace on his lips, molding their mouths together in a slow kiss and Simon pulled back, his fingers twitched against Jace’s prostate and he removed his fingers. He tore the condom out and rolled it over his cock, and covered himself in lube and spread Jace’s leg farther apart. 

He stayed still and Jace whined thrust himself at Simon but Simon held him down, his cock pressed against Jace’s thigh and he nuzzled into Jace’s neck. 

“By the angel,” Jace ground against him, his cock strained against the ring, aching to come but Simon ignored it. “Get on with it.” Again so needy.  

Simon laughed and pressed the tip in, he forced himself to go slow, he would never ever hurt Jace, even if he felt the need to just pound Jace into the mattress, like a water building against a dam. But the dam held. 

Jace turned his head, his cheek against the pillow, the cords of the neck stood out pulled back against the eggshell skin, his mouth open in a soundless moan. 

Simon took his hand off Jace’s hip, gently his titled Jace’s chin back to face him, Jace’s face was crumbling with desperation, it was written in his eyes. Simon slowly, agonizingly slow for the both of them, sunk fully into the warm, tight heat of Jace’s hole. 

His thumb fit into the underside of Jace’s jaw, his fingers over Jace’s neck, light but he could feel Jace take every strangled breath.

“Simon.” The words vibrated against Simon’s palm. Jace clenched around Simon’s cock and Simon started the thrust, gave Jace what he wanted and set a relentless pace, he didn’t need to breathe and honestly the vampire strength and skills were coming in handy more than he expected during sex. 

Simon stared at Jace’s face, fascinated by how the features shifted and his eyes changed, bathed in the dying light of the sun. 

He didn’t look like the sun, not how poetry and hopeless romantics on TV say. He didn’t burn into Simon’s eyes. Instead, he looked like the moon. Beautiful and changing every night, silver with the sun's light but not harmful to look at. A brightness in the dark night sky. 

The moon gently taken down and laid out on Simon’s bed, the dark blue framing him and the wisps of the sun's light cascading over him with dampness from the shower. 

Simon kissed at the corner of Jace’s lips and trust in, the drag against Jace made Simon jump on the high wire he was walking on, high above the ground and filled with wonder and ecstasy. Simon’s hips snapped back and forth. 

Jace’s hand reached for his cock but Simon took his hand and twined their fingers together and pressed their joined hands into the pillow. His cock was desperate, straining against the ring and Simon kissed him again. 

Jace was panting against his lips, his one free hand tangled in Simon’s hair. Simon was breathing too, he didn’t need to but it felt like he was going to explode if he didn’t. 

“Please,” Jace ground his cock into Simon’s stomach. “Please, don’t make me beg.” 

Simon gave a hard trust again. “But your already begging, Jace.”

Jace made a sound of aggravation. “Please.” 

“As you wish,” Simon let go of Jace’s hand and took off the cock ring, touching Jace’s cock and balls as little as possible and he took both Jace’s hands and pinned them above his head. He stilled his trusts, controlling himself, slowing his impending orgasm, they both dangled off the precipice, ready to fall.

Simon took pity on Jace and pulled all the way out, making Jace whine and cry out, overstimulated. He untangled himself from Jace.

Simon reached onto the floor and grabbed a threadbare pillow. “Turn over.” 

Jace did as he was bid and Simon put a pillow under his hips and Jace propped himself up on his hands and knees, getting a good angle on grinding his cock into the pillow. 

Simon lined himself up and slid back in his place inside Jace, fitting so well Jace had to have been made for this—for him. He drapped himself over Jace’s back, he nipped at Jace’s ear. “Touch yourself and we’ll start all over.” 

Jace hand balled into fists. Simon would do it too—licking, fingering, stretching him out even more—but Jace would be a good boy. Simon held Jace’s hips, forcing him to move with Simon’s rhythm.   

He kissed at Jace’s jaw, stretched across Jace’s back, he could feel his muscles move, rippling under Simon, his spine, each notch against Simon. His hand on Jace’s hip was sprawled out, his fingertips rested against the bottom of  Jace’ ribcage, he could feel the bones, the shift as he breathed in the muscles around it.

Jace’s hips were being pushed into the pillow in time with Simon’s thrusts and soon Simon picked up his pace, stopping when the urge to come became too much, the storm inside Jace swelled and Simon summoned it with each movement of his hips. 

Jace was getting closer, he was getting louder, moans and gasps, the strain in his body heard in his voice. He came over the pillow, his back arched and his mouth opened in a silent scream, only gasps left his lips, his hole tightened, encased Simon in a fiery heat. He fell onto the mattress and Simon let it wash over him and he didn’t stop thrusting his hips.

Simon moved his hand to Jace’s side. “What’s this one do again?” Simon asked, his fingers over the dry scaly rune.  

Jace looked over his shoulder, as if he needed to see the runes he marked into his skin, he met Simon’s eyes. “Stamina.” 

Simon smiled and his hand dropped between Jace’s legs, his cock limp, but Simon could fix that. Jace didn’t stop him. 

“I don’t usually…” 

Simon brushed his fingers against Jace’s cock. “Why not.” 

Jace shuddered, he ducked his head. “It’s too much a second time. Way too intense.” 

“In a good way?’ Simon asked because Jace hasn’t stopped him. 

“It hurts,” Jace said and Simon almost stopped but Jace’s hips moved into his hand, making Jace jolt like lightning ran over his skin. 

“I don’t want to hurt you.” 

Jace looked back at Simon, his soul poured out. “I want you too.” 

It a balance, pain and pleasure and Simon never wanted it to tip too far into pain. Simon slowly moved his hips, his hands capped Jace’s hips, traced his bones, felt the trembling under his skin. 

Simon climbed higher, pulled Jace with him, whispered sweet nothings into Jace back, urging them both on, the tightrope they walked was unsteady and Simon made them jump and flip on it. Spun them around with each movement of his hips. 

Higher and higher and Simon was almost animalistic chasing down his orgasm, forcing Jace’s cock against the pillow and his own against his tight inner walls. He needed a little push and the clutching of Jace’s hole when he came would take him over the edge.

So he focused on Jace, changed the angle and made sure Jace was getting closer, his cock hard and dripping pre-come. Simon slammed him into the mattress, his advanced strength carried him on.  

Jace’s cock hit the pillow and this time he came, shooting out over the pillow again, his legs collapsing and the storm inside him pulled Simon in. His hole fluttering and tightening and  Simon fell with Jace, down from the tightrope, into the storm. 

Simon gave a slow twist of his hips, Jace was fully against the mattress, sweat a thin sheen over his skin. Jace reached under him and threw the pillow onto the ground, his neck littered with bruises and marks, Simon was sure he had Jace’s fingernail prints over him but he didn’t care.

Simon slowly pulled out of Jace, the lube stuck to the condom and Simon pulled it off, he threw it in the trash can in his bedroom, he would change the bag later.

Simon dropped to his back on the bed beside Jace. He watched as Jace reached between his legs, his gentle fingers brushed against his rim, he gasped and shook at the bare touch. Jace’s hand found its way to the grip marks on his hips, Simon hands leaving a red imprint. 

Jace finally opened his eyes, his mask still dropped, his face open with a tangle of emotions. But he looked at Simon like he hung the stars.

_ No strings,  _ a voice inside his head whispered but Simon could feel them as Jace turned onto his side. Jace’s hand traced his Jace like Simon was made of glass and Simon felt like he was, he was glass and he was breaking under Jace’s gentle touch. Jace’s thumb wandered, it tingled against Simon’s lips as it moved across the corner of Simon’s mouth to the center of his barely open lips.

 Jace captured his lips, his finger replaced with his lips and their bodies molded together again. It was quick but they lingered together. 

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” Simon asked, their faces were inches apart.  It was day and Shadowhunters hunted at night, so it makes sense they mostly slept during the day unless they had like a day shift or were running the other shit at the Institute. 

“I have patrol at ten till like two,” Jace said. “So probably.”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

Jace nodded. “So I went for a walk.” 

“If you have patrol at ten and have been up all day, how are you going to make it through.” 

“I’m a Shadowhunter, that stamina rune had many purposes,” Jace smiled and his fingers trailed over Simon’s hip. “And I’ve trained for longer days.” 

“Being a Shadowhunter would suck.” 

“It has its moments.” 

Simon felt something deep in his gut, the bite marks never broke the skin on Jace’s neck but now Simons wanted them too, he could hear Jace’s blood flow through his veins, the echo of his heart sounded in Simon’s ears. He was drawn to the blood, the angelic blood he had once fed on. Like the sweetest wines and honey. He had pushed all the feelings aside, easy when overtaken by sex and his stomach full of blood, but his stomach was empty, his cock spent and the shadow that always hung over his head got lower. 

Simon pushed the hunger down but the siren song continued and Simon was dazed and kissed Jace, rolled so he straddled Jace. He quickly moved to Jace’s neck, the skin discolored and so thin, easy to pierce with his teeth. 

Simon jumped back, scrambling naked off the bed, his hand covered his mouth, his fangs, as if that could stop his hunger. He was holding onto his self-control by a thread. Jace couldn’t fight back, it would only hurt him worse. 

Simon fought for control over his mind and Jace crossed the room but Simon held a hand out, stopping Jace from coming closer. 

Simon remembered why he was out, he had gotten blood, nice blood not form Jace’s veins but that's what his body wanted. He was chained to Jace, his instincts to get the best blood, the heavenly blood straight from Jace over the stuff in a plastic bag. 

Simon pushed past Jace, slipped on the black bathrobe that hung on the door, he felt like when he was reborn, covered in dirt and desire, ripping open the blood bags like some kind of animal and Clary had seemed like a snack and so did Jace. 

He ran to the door, to his bag and pulled out the first bag of blood he could get his shaking fingers on. He didn’t rip it because that would lose blood but the opening wouldn’t unstick. Simon was shaking and his fangs were sharp in his mouth, he clenched his jaw tight. 

He didn’t hear Jace follow him but when his steady hands were taking the bag from Simon’s hands he handed it over.  Jace must have also taken a moment to put his boxers on, he stood there not looking scared. 

_ “I would have let you.”  _

He opened it up and calmly like Simon wasn’t desperate for a meal, he stepped away and took a glass from the kitchen and poured it into the blue cup. He handed Simon the glass and Simon took it eagerly.

He gulped it down, the blood tasted sweet, coated his throat in its sticky irony substance but to Simon, it was the best damn thing. His hand was still shaking as he held the glass against his lips, taking all the blood he could get until the monster inside him quieted to the low hum of hunger he was used to.

 His fingers gave a last spasm and the glass dropped to the ground, shattering on the wooden floor. Simon stared at it, like it would right itself, the sharp edges were sharp enough to cut, tiny pieces were scattered and large shards laid together, all broken. 

Simon dropped to the ground. He picked up the large pieces, careful not to cut himself on the edge. 

“Simon,” Jace voice was smooth, calming, a blanket of silence over Simon screaming brain. “Take a moment.” 

Simon curled his fists but a blue blast came from his hand, the Mark Of Cain ignited and his hand pushed back the broken piece so it clattered to the ground. With sevenfold the force it would have made against Simon’s skin. 

It shattered. 

Simon held his hand close to himself, Jace stepped over the broken ceramic and took Simon’s hand, he ran a thumb over Simon’s knuckles. Simon took a deep, unnecessary breath. It calmed him nonetheless. 

“G—” Simon choked on the word. “Shit, I’m sorry.” 

“It’s your glass,” Jace pointed out. “Your floor.” 

Simon went to push his glasses—on instinct—up to find nothing. He let out a dry laugh. “I’m a mess.” 

Jace kept silent, he led Simon to the couch and made him sit. With simple instructions to, “take a moment.” 

Jace cleaned up the glass, picked up the big shards and swept up the tiny bits. The silence rested heavy on Simon, he touched his lips, his razor-sharp fangs retreated but Simon had the phantom feeling of them against his lips.

 Simon closed his eyes and kept them there. He didn’t want to see anymore, like seeing it would make it worse. Like not seeing it made it disappear. He heard Jace’s footsteps as they come closer and than nothing; he stopped.

Slowly, he opened his eyes, as Jace was lowering himself to his knees in front of Simon, looking up at Simon, his hand found a place on Simon’s knee. Simon wanted to be smaller, curl into a ball and disappear but the contact, the warm hand against the bare knee, fitting against the bones, was comforting. 

Simon’s throat was tightening, the familiar feel of your emotions choking you, the tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. He just wanted to get this stupid mark off his forehead, frustration clouded his head but he held the tears back. 

“It’s okay,” Jace said, a reversal of a few nights ago when Jace sat deep within his own head, nightmares tearing at his head. 

Simon brought a hand over Jace’s on his knee, another to his forehead, the Mark sang softly under his skin, he closed his eyes again and ducked his head against his shoulder. 

“Simon,” Jace called, reached deep inside Simon’s head, where Simon was disappearing into. “Look at me.” 

The strings held by Jace like a puppeteer guided Simon’s eyes back to Jace. “I’m sorry.” 

“You apologize too much,” Jace turned his hand to hold Simon’s fingers in his palm. “It’s not your fault.”

“I could have killed you,” Simon tried to pull his hand from Jace’s grip but Jace held it tighter. “You couldn’t have fought back.”

“I know.”

“Don’t say you would have let me,” Simon pleaded, he didn’t understand how Jace could be so calm with all of this. “Or I wouldn’t’ve, I was overwhelmed with the hunger. I couldn’t think.” 

“Are you done?” Jace asked, only slightly sarcastic. “Because none of that matters, you didn’t even bite me.” 

“Can I not sulk for a moment,” Simon snapped. “I need to get this G—damn mark off my forehead. You act like you know everything, so how did Cain get it off his head.”

“He didn’t.” 

“Well, he had to get it off to die.”

“It’s implied that God just brought him to Heaven when his time was up.” 

“Oh, great. I’ll just call God.” 

“But God is the one who gave Cain his Mark in the Bible,” Jace’s brows furrowed, the gears turned inside his head. “The Seelie Queen gave you yours. Maybe only she can remove it.” 

Simon laughed. “Probably worse than asking God.” 

“Maybe not, but Isabelle still knows some of the entrances to the Court.” 

“She could remove it just to kill me.” 

“Is that a risk you’re willing to take?” 

Simon shrugged. He weighed his options, death would be better than living this life. “Where are these entrances?” 

“I don’t know them but I’ll ask Izzy.” 

“Text me once you get them.” 

“No,” Jace held up his hand, stopping Simon’s voice in his throat. “I’ll get them and then tomorrow, I’ll take you there.” 

“I can go on my own.” 

“You don’t know the rules of Seelies,” Jace pointed out. “Won’t know if you’re being tricked. I studied the Seelies and their tricks.” 

“You don’t have to.” 

“But I will. Shadowhunters are here to protect everyone and if you die there I don’t need the guilt that I could have saved you,” Jace smiled. “A besides Clary would kill me if anything happened to you.”

“Fine.”

***

Isabelle kicked a rock out of her way as they patrolled the streets. “Why do you need the Seelie entry points.” 

Jace took a deep breath. “I need to get into the Court, or at least contact the Queen.”

 “Yes, I figured. But why do you need an audience with the Queen?”

“For Simon,” Jace said, acting casual, like Alec and Isabelle don’t talk about Jace going back to Simon again. “To get the Mark of Cain off his forehead.”

 Isabelle stopped walking—never a good sign. “Why would he want that off, it’s protection. I saved all of our asses.” 

“He can’t handle it. It’s killing him, that fact that could really hurt someone. That they can’t fight back if he ever loses control over his vampire hunger.” 

Isabelle raised an eyebrow. “How do you know this? Did you and Simon have sex again?” 

“It means nothing.” 

“Alec told me about you and Simon going at it again, really Jace, three times.” 

“You’re one to judge.” 

“I’m not judging. I’m just trying to understand.” 

“It means nothing.”

“Okay,” Isabelle held her hands up in surrender. “But I’m not stupid. I played the same game with Meliorn.”

“Will you give me the entrance location?”

“You need the words too.”

“Both, please.” 

Isabelle sighed and gave them to him. 


	3. To Make Me Fret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no beta we die like men.
> 
> so all mistakes are mine.

Simon was jolted awake by his phone ringing. He had only turned it up waiting for a call. He picked up his phone and thankfully it was Clary. He answered with a swipe before he could think otherwise. 

It was three in the morning but there’s a few hour difference between New York and Idris. 

“How’s shadowhunter school,” Simon cut the pleasantries because, as they’ve discussed, she only had so little time to spare with her jam-packed schedule. There was also a no-phone rule at the Academy.

“At least there’s no math,” Clary said, keeping her voice down, she now lived with the teachers in the private building adjacent to the school since she needed to be kept a close eye on since she was known for dodgy behavior (like sneaking her phone in but they don’t know about that) and they didn’t want to keep her with the kids since she was much older and took private lessons. 

“Yeah.” 

“It’s a lot and they’re all so cold to me,” she huffed. “Training is my favorite part but no runes are allowed and it’s brutal, but in a good way and Latin is by far the worst.” 

“I can imagine.”

“Isabelle told me how it would be but still, it’s my first day, they could be nicer.” 

“Maybe it’ll get better?” 

Clary barked out a harsh laugh. “Sure. How're things with you?” 

“Not that good to be honest.” 

“Anything you want to talk about?”

Simon sighed.“I just hate this stupid mark on my head and Jace thinks the Seelie Queen can get it off and I’m just scared of her in general and things can go wrong very fast.”

“Oh yeah,” Simon could hear her smile. “Isabelle told me you and Jace boned again.” 

“When did you talk to her.” 

“She sent me a text.”

“It’s none of her business.” 

He heard the sound of her flopping down on her bed, she let out a small groan as her probably aching limbs hit the mattress. “Well Jace asked for info on how to get into the court and he spilled the beans. And don’t tell me it’s none of my business. That’s bullshit.” 

“I wasn’t going too.” 

“Okay.”

A heavy silence filled the line and Simon pushed himself out of the tangle of sheets and paced the room.

“Be careful,” Clary whispered. 

“I will,” Simon crossed his apartment and got his thermos full of blood for a midnight snack. Fear curled in his gut, even talking about it made his anxious. “I’m a bit nervous.”

“I’d be concerned if you weren’t,” she said. “But I’m nervous for you too. The Seelie Queen is scary as hell.”

“I know.” 

“But at least your knight in shining armor will be there.” 

“My what...you mean Jace?”

“Of course!” she half yelled. “Shit, I think they heard me. Text me when you’re safe.” 

“Aye, aye, Captain.” 

He could almost hear her roll her eyes.

***

He lost his mind as he waited for Jace to knock on his door. He stress drank blood, he paced and paced and spiraled. His mind was a labyrinth and every time he thought he made it out it got bigger, more paths leading to dark places and there was always a worse possible outcome. Death, torture, enslavement. All of the above. 

Nothing was off the table the labyrinth told him, nothing was outside of the Queen’s power. He’d be entirely vulnerable without the Mark. The labyrinth kept going and going and every path led to two more.

A knock startled him from his mind. He opened it and Jace, armed to the teeth stood in his doorway. His leather jacket sleeves were unzipped and rolled up to reveal cuff were small knives of gleaming adamas rested. His belt had more daggers and knives and two swords strapped in. His thighs had two more daggers. Over his back, the hilts of two crossed swords peaked out. Be prepared, he noted as Jace walked in and he saw ninja stars over the back half of belt. 

“Ready to go?” Jace asked and crossed his arms over his chest.  

“Bring enough weapons?” 

“Hope for the best,” Jace’s thumbs fitted against his belt of weapons. “Prepare for the worst.” 

It seems Jace had a labyrinth of his own full of dark passageways too. Too nervous to stay quiet in the literally two seconds of silence Simon blurted, “is this a good idea.”

Jace shrugged. “Not for me to say, it’s your forehead, your mark, your decision.” 

“But what do you think I should do,” Simon asked, desperate to know something other than his fearful thoughts. “Be honest.” 

Jace’s hands slid down his body to rest on the hilts of his daggers that rested on his thighs. “I think that if it’s going to cause you to freak out and panic every time it’s used than yeah, you’re making the right decision.” 

“But what about protecting you guys. It saved everyone. It’s an instant get out of jail free card for any bad situation.” 

“I don’t need protecting,” Jace snapped. “We’ll be fine.” 

“And what if any other big scary bad guy is lurking in the wood-work.” 

“Then we’ll handle it.” 

“Okay,” Simon said more to himself than Jace. “Okay, okay.” Simon patted his legs. “Okay. Um, let’s go then. Where exactly are we going.” 

***

Jace took him to Central Park. Into a spot where pink flowered bushes blossomed and white benches sat in the shade of grand oak trees, old and gnarled twisting branches held green leaves, sheen and bright. Jace led him through a patch of trees, to a no doubt glamored door between two trees, where ivy fell over and Jace carelessly cut through with a swift blade. He bent down and whispered, so faint Simon almost missed it.

_“Evermore.”_

The door opened and guards came to attention, their bright eyes surveyed Simon and Jace. One guard with a tattoo over half her face in long swirls and moon-white hair stark against her dark skin stepped forward, a spear held in her hand. “Her Majesty has been expecting your return, Simon Lewis,” she stepped aside for him to pass but blocked Jace’s path. “But not the Herondale boy.” 

“He’s with me,” Simon said, Jace was completely still, pink petals showered them as the wind blew, a veil of thin twisted branches hung between the path and Queen’s court, where soft music played and bubbling laughter came from the courtiers.

“He doesn’t have permission,” the guard said. 

“He’s with me,” Simon said and his hand pulled at Jace’s arm and hauled him down the path and through the curtain of branches to the Queen. 

She stood atop her altar of black stone, her body looked like a child, a little girl with a dress embroidered with flowers and a crown of silver stars on her head. She held up a hand and music stopped, the court stilled and her eyes took in Jace, his arsenal and Simon.

Jace dropped to one knee, his head bent down in proper manners but Simon didn’t.

“You want the Mark of the Wanderer off,” she said, her voice soft with faux innocence. “My gift to you, for protection.” 

“For you to use me,” Simon hissed, trying and failing to keep his anger in check. “To ruin my life.” 

“To save your life, Simon, the Mark could turn the tides of war. It already has proved it’s worth against Lilith.” 

Simon tried to control his anger but his fists balled. “I don’t want to see a war.” 

The Queen laughed. “You’re immortal, Daylighter, wars always come.” 

Simon felt a wave of sickness wash over him at the mention of his immortality. He was scared to live forever, to see his friends and the world turn to ash and dust as the fires of time ravage the word. 

“Yeah, that’s why you put it on me, right?” Simon’s nails dug into his skin, it grounded him, kept him from tipping over the bottomless well of his fear. “I want it off, now.”

She smiled but her eyes held something dark, no matter what skin she wore her eyes gave away her ancient soul, the darkness that lived and breathed in her. “And you think that he,” she pointed a finger at Jace. “Will protect you.” 

Simon looked at Jace, who looked two seconds away from drawing the blades, he was still kneeling, it was proper behavior to kneel until the Queen told him to rise. He didn’t know when Jace got manners but he seemed inclined to follow Seelie rules today. To not provoke anything. 

“Yes.” 

She raised an eyebrow and Jace was clenching his jaw so tightly he might ground his teeth to dust. His neck pulled taut as he strained to keep his head down. 

She signaled to the guard, three fingers up and he hurried off. “I’ll make a bargain, Daylighter.” 

“Simon,” Jace whispered, his name sounded like a warning, like it clawed out of Jace’s throat no matter how hard he tried to keep quiet.  

“Be silent. I haven’t permitted you to speak. Or stand.”

No smart ass remark left Jace’s lips. He didn’t go against her rules of court. Simon had completely bypassed them. The Queen didn’t seem to mind, this must be a game to her, how long could see keep Jace with pure heavenly blood in his veins still. Kneeling. 

Simon’s throat was dry. “What’s the offer.” 

“I will remove the mark,” she stepped forward and going against every instinct for self-preservation Simon didn’t step back. “But you will bear the Mark again, Wanderer.” 

Simon quietly reminded himself over and over again that Seelie’s couldn’t lie but their words tricked and deceived anyway. “When.” 

“When I see fit.” 

“And what stops you from doing it for no reason,” Simon stepped forward, right now he couldn’t be hurt. 

“I wouldn’t bother unless it was necessary, I would not want to provoke your wraith when the Mark is on. Not when I want your loyalty.” 

It made sense, she couldn’t force him to do anything when he couldn’t be harmed. “My loyalty?” 

“It’s only a matter of time before the next Valentine emerges. The next disaster. The next war. With you willingly on my side…” 

“You could win every battle.” 

“I swear, Simon Lewis, that I will only have you bear the mark in times of crisis, when lives are on the line, when my people are in danger.” 

“Only once, for a week, every hundred years,” Simon said before he lost his nerve. “I will not be your warrior anytime a threat is posed. So once every hundred years will make sure you don’t abuse the power. And no rollovers: use it, or lose it.” 

“Fine. I promise that I will only have you bear the mark for times of crisis, only once every hundred years, for only a week then I will remove it.”  

Simon smiled. “And I swear on my father’s grave that I will serve you loyalty during that week.” 

Then the guard came back with a stone, it had the Mark of Cain engraved on it. He held it on a plate of obsidian and set it down in front of Simon.

“Pick it up and the Mark will be removed,” the Queen instructed. “It will be painful and you may die. If you drop it before the Mark is removed the processes will have to start again. Oh, and you may rise.” 

Jace quickly moved to his feet, his eyes on Simon, his hands on his swords strapped to his hips. “Simon.” 

“It’s done, Jace. How bad can one week be?” 

“You’re an idiot,” Jace said, he seized Simon’s hand before he could reach for the stone. “You don’t make deals with the Seelie’s.” 

“Well I just did,” Simon acted like he wasn’t terrified to his bones. “I’m not changing my mind so get behind me or get out.” 

“I won’t leave,” Jace drew his knives instead, the ones from his thighs. “Or get behind you,” Jace stepped forward, putting himself between Simon and the Queen. “But it’s your choice, Simon. Are you going to risk dying?” 

“I can’t live like this, in constant fear of hurting someone. I can’t take it.” Simon bent down to pick up the stone but stilled. “If I don’t make it, then give Becky my love. And Clary. And Izzy. And Magnus. And—basically everyone.” 

Jace nodded and Simon pushed the tears from his eyes. His fingers met the stone and pain seared through him, he was pulled off his feet as magic suspended him, he tried to move but it held him. Blue crisscrossed over him, swirling and burning him. He was screaming and screaming. Pain latched onto him, as if it wanted to reach inside his skin and take everything, rip apart every cell until he was nothing.

Simon felt tears stream down his face, the blood tears were leaking from his eyes and more fell in seconds. His bones felt like breaking under the pressure of the magic, as it tore through him, it also crushed him. 

It made his mind derail, all he knew was pain and forgot everything else, what his name was, where he was. It was so bad that he almost dropped the stone but he held it tight, it almost grounded him as the storm of pain grew. 

The magic held him through it all. As Simon started to crawl towards death, who seemed so close, lingering in the corner, counting his last seconds down. It hurt more than anything else. Death wasn’t evil, it just was. It didn’t dance to his screams and pain but waited. 

He couldn’t escape the pain as it grew worse, the fire hotter and faster and he had nothing left to feed the flame. So his screams were for death, begging and desperate. 

Death didn’t take him. 

So Simon went to death. The pain too much to handle but a whisper in his head told him to drop the stone. But the death seemed easier than opening his burning hand.

“Simon,” a voice called. So far away and death was so close, all he had to do was let go—not of the stone but life, this world. “Simon.” 

He knew that voice so he held on, only for a moment as the pain came back like a vulture to finish off the remains of his corpse.

Then the world shattered. 

He fell to the ground, pain rippled through him, another wave hitting him, far worse than the rest. Simon knew that it had killed him, he had nothing left but he was falling, tipping backward and landing on the pedal covered ground. Aftershocks ran through him, he trembled as he watched Jace fall to his knees. 

The world was spinning. 

He tried to focus and it stopped enough to see Jace take his knife and aim it at his skin. He sliced his arm and blood sprang forward. The smell like nothing else, it was pure pleasure in the blood but it was Jace. His Jace. He would never hurt his Jace. He couldn’t. 

But Jace was shoving his bleeding arm in Simon’s mouth. Simon gathered his strength to push the arm away but Jace forced Simon’s hands from his arm. 

“You need it, Simon,” Jace said. His blood trickled down into Simon’s mouth and Simon couldn’t help it as he held the arm and bit into it. He drank down the blood, not stopping as the world snapped into focus, the blood making him feel alive again. 

Jace gasped and more blood poured from his arm. Simon sucked all he could from Jace, keeping his arm in Simon’s iron grip as Jace shuddered and held back moans. His blood held stars in it that made Simon burs. Simon was unable to get enough. Simon let it take over him, a far cry from the pain that seemed so distant now that Jace’s blood coated his tongue, soothing his pain and hunger. Knitting his wounds together. 

Jace’s heavy breath landed on his skin, Jace had slid down to sit and ducked his head, Simon’s skin was stained with salt as tears fell. Simon mustered enough control to pull back, his fangs slid out of Jace’s skin, wet with saliva and sweat. Simon let his head drop down to the ground.  

Jace stayed sitting, panting and shaking as he took out his stele and drew some runes on his skin, the healing one Simon recognized, the other he didn’t. He hoped it was for blood replacement. 

“We need to get out of here,” Jace whispered. “Can you stand?” 

Simon tried to sit up but his body didn’t listen to his brain, too tired and spent to move. He did manage to move his head to the side to see the Queen. She sat on her throne, her face revealed nothing as she watched the scene. 

“No,” Simon rasped, his voice broken from the screaming. 

“I’ve got you,” Jace lifted him, a hand under his legs and one supported his back. Bridal style, he could be embarrassed later, right now he just leaned against Jace and breathed him in. Jace bowed in front of the Queen and she dismissed him with a wave of her hand. 

Once they were out of the court Jace set Simon down on a bench and with gentle hands, he wiped the blood from Simon’s face. Then he was back in Jace’s arms. 

“I’m sorry,” he muttered against Jace’s neck. Everything hurt when he tried to move, so he just let Jace carry him. 

They’d taken Simon’s van here, carefully driven by Simon, fearful of hitting anyone, going slow and cautious enough to get a few beeps that Jace had flipped off while also telling him to step on it.  

Jace was probably glamored as he carried Simon to his bright yellow van. “What?” Jace asked, not hearing Simon’s slurred words. 

“I’m sorry,” Simon repeated, he willed his strength to his arm to throw it across Jace’s shoulder, Jace’s head leaned against his. 

“Take more,” Jace whispered, his steps sure and swift but his voice broke. “You need it. You look terrible.” 

“I feel fine.”

“You’re not going to die but you’re still too weak,” Jace lifted his chin, barred his neck. “Take what you need.” 

At the thought of his blood Simon’s fangs popped out but Simon pressed his lips together. “I’ve already taken enough.” He was holding onto self-control by a thread. “I have some in the car.” 

“Shadowhunter blood is better for you, gives you more energy and I can’t drive so I need you to be alert.” 

Simon’s fangs prodded at the base of Jace’s neck. Jace’s grip tightened and his steps faltered, a tremor ran through his body. Simon could still become alert from the van blood but Jace wanted to give Simon his blood. Simon could figure what exactly that meant later but right now he let his fangs sink into Jace’s neck. 

Jace froze. Blood, so sweet for the lurking monster inside of him that craved blood always, swam into his mouth. Some spilled over his lips, the angle a bit hard to work with but he would get it later. Jace threw his head back, the cords of his throat working and more blood poured into Simon’s mouth. 

Jace started to walk and more blood seeped onto Jace’s skin but he didn’t seem to mind as he rushed to the van. Time blurred under the blanket Jace’s blood threw over him, of pleasure and comfort of no hunger lingering on the horizon. Free of the weight his hunger always forced him to bear. 

Jace sat down on the floor of the back, his legs thrown out in front of him. Some of Simon’s belongings were scattered around, a blanket cast over the floor and a cooler of blood. Simon, now in Jace lap pulled back. Jace’s eyes were wide open, burning with a fire that flowed in his veins. Simon adjusted to straddle Jace and leaned down and cleaned Jace’s skin, licked the blood from his skin. Sweat covered Jace’s body, it glistened on his neck and he felt it on Jace’s hands as they held his hips.

Simon tucked his head under Jace’s chin, he felt his energy returning to him, slowly but surely. Simon still ached, bone-deep with wounds from the magical fire that burned him. Jace’s hands started moving, not a sexual feel up but as if he wanted to sooth the invisible wounds. As if his touch could heal. 

“Simon,” Jace murmured, his breath warm on Simon’s skin, his hands didn’t stop, all over him, as if they bypassed the skin and roamed over his bones. “You’re so goddamn good. Too good for this world.” 

Simon melted into his hands, his touch, over Simon’s shoulders, his sides, his back, his stomach, his thighs. Simon reached up and when he cupped Jace’s jaw, the hands of water to soothe his burns stopped. 

“Too good,” Jace whispered, his hands had frozen holding Simon’s ribcage, holding his heart’s cage against his hands, holding it together. 

Before Simon could respond, darkness hit him and even with the stolen starlight of Jace’s blood the phantom fire had exhausted him enough that the darkness swallowed him. 

***

_Everything burned. Blood was a river in the streets of ash, fires still burned in the distance. In the ash, thousands of white marbles laid. The only remains of people._

_Simon backed up, ash crunching under him, the stars seemed to hang lower, heating his flesh even in the night sky._

_The Seelie Queen sat on the throne of ivory, covered twisting branches with ivy twining around. Around her life bloomed, green grass and towering trees surrounded by a ring of ash._

_“Good job, Daylighter.”_

_Simon took a step back and fell over the edge, darkness so thick it seemed to move, it clung to Simon, calling him to stay in its arms and Simon did, he fell until he didn’t know he if was falling anymore._

_But the shadows died, a bright light reached for Simon and he hit the ground. But he was on his feet and mirrors surrounded him, marked with sigils of blood._

_The reflections were not his own. One was like a prince of shadows, dressed in all black with blood dripping from his lips. It would have been comical if not for the black the surrounded him and how it seemed to part for him. Not comical at all the deepness of his eyes, obsidian and endless in hate. And it was Simon._

_The not-Simon smiled, blood-stained teeth greeted Simon._

_The world was spinning and demons were in other mirrors and so were more the looked like him. One had Jace, on his knees, naked. Leather and straps contained the fighter, fear and repulsion were written all over him._

_Simon fell to his knees. To Jace. When he went to reach through the glass his hand went through but it cracked and Jace screamed, the mark on Simon’s forehead glowed and burst to life as the mirror was eaten by blue that turned black as it formed waves to destroy._

_Simon fell forward but the ground was gone and he was falling more. This time phantom fire coated his bones, unstoppable and his mark tried to rip it apart but it only made Simon fall to pieces._

_Simon hit the ground again and a faceless army marched towards him and he destroyed it, with a blast from his Mark, hundreds dead._

_Simon was falling._

_Again._

_He hit the ground and his mom surged forward, a kitchen knife in hand and Simon curled in on himself as the knife hit the field the Mark put up and the knife turned on her._

_The Seelie Queen was beside him as Becca's screams faded and blood drowned him. “Good job.”_

_Simon was being covered in blood but he was falling again and Jace faced him, sword in his hand and ranks behind him. Not so faceless._

_Simon was stone when Jace struck but he was soon on the ground and the world titled and a Jace fell like the morning star into Simon’s bed. Dying from his wound and Simon, without control, bent over and sucked all the blood from Jace. But he didn’t die, instead, as blood covered the bed it turned to flowers and Jace was old and grey._

_Simon’s mouth dripped blood onto the flowers and so did his eyes. Simon threw the flowers off and laid over Jace, cold and dead under Simon._

_Clary screamed behind him, demons and angles alike tried to grab her, she had no weapons and they clawed her apart. The prince of shadows, the one that looks like Simon with the abyss in his eyes bit her throat out. When Simon tried to get him a mirror separated then._

_Blood was again a river, red and thick and way too much to ever come from one person. Simon hit the glass, pounded at it. The not-Simon put his hands on the glass and pushed the glass forward._

_It toppled and it didn’t break as it landed on Simon, it pushed him down to his back and then the glass shattered and dirt swallowed him up. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe. The dirt pushed back against him, he went deeper and deeper. Sinking into the dirt that greedily covered him._

_The earth sucked him down, he had no idea how far away the surface was but the dirt kept pounding on him and he couldn’t claw his way up no matter how hard he tried._

***

Simon was still suffocating as he opened his eyes, the dirt was all over him, so was blood. It was bright though and something warm was on his shoulder. A hand. 

Warm and shaking and breaths landed on his skin as words rushed out of someone. It was the not-Simon and Simon snapped and lunged, like a predator, feline and full of rage and pinned the body down. He couldn’t see it was so bright. 

“Simon.”

Simon stopped as the world came back, slowly with the sun streaming through the windows, the body under his was Jace. His Jace. 

“Simon,” he said. Simon looked down he had one hand on Jace’s shoulder, his nails biting into Jace’s skin and the other around Jace’s neck. All the fight left Simon and he twisted off Jace, landing on his ass beside him. 

Simon looked at all the weapons Jace carried and none were drawn. Not a single blade. Not a single hand was raised against him. 

Jace didn’t sit up, he stared at the ceiling. “I couldn’t wake you up.” 

Simon slid down to lay next to Jace. “I’m sorry.” 

Jace didn’t seem to hear. “I thought you were dead. That it really killed you. Simon, you don’t breathe, your heart doesn’t beat. I couldn’t tell if you were dead.” 

Simon’s head snapped around and Jace wasn’t looking at him. Simon had so much to say it almost came bursting out of him.

But Jace beat him to it. “You were out for a few minutes,” he continued. “What happened?” 

“I dreamt,” Simon’s voice broke. “It felt so real. It was so vivid.” 

Jace finally looked at Simon. “What did you see.” 

Simon shook his head. The words wouldn’t come to explain it, he couldn’t relive it. Not the terror of it. Not how the dream felt like a vision. “I’m sorry,” was all he could manage. 

Jace sat up, his hands found his swords strapped to his hips. “When I was a kid and when one of us felt bad or something we would share a bed and one time I had a nightmare and almost hurt Alec and Izzy. They said I was so wild and seemed so angry they didn’t know what to do. Isabelle slapped me while Alec yelled at me. All I remember was that I was trapped and I was so disoriented and confused I thought Alec and Isabelle wanted to hurt me.” 

Simon didn’t know what to do, what to say. He didn’t want to make anything worse and he certainly didn’t want to touch Jace. “You should have fought back. I don’t have the Mark anymore.”  

“I know. But I know what it’s like to be in that state, you were scared and I didn’t want you to be scared anymore,” Jace shrugged and his hands took inventory of his weapons, touching each one to make sure they were all there. “I didn’t want to hurt you.” 

“I could’ve hurt you.”

“If you did more than pin me down and almost choke me I would’ve acted but you came back before it got to bad.” 

“Promise me something.” 

“Anything.” 

“Promise,” Simon gathered the nerve to take Jace’s hand, it was warm like it always was and even though he got sunlight the cold always seemed to linger in his hands. “Promise me that if it happens again, you’ll stop me before I hurt you.” 

“I promise.” Jace ran his thumb in circles over Simon’s hand. “I swear it on the angel.” 

“Did it happen again,” Simon asked and he hauled himself to sit up, his body protested. It felt like he had been hit by a truck, every muscle screamed at him to stop, to rest but he pushed through. A bit of his energy coming back to him. 

“Yes. I would sometimes wake up screaming and Alec went to see what was happening and I would try to hurt him. Then I started to lock my door and try rune proof it but I still would wake up with a knife in hand, dazed and a mess.” 

“When did it stop?” 

“As I adjusted they weren’t as worse. It almost completely stopped when Alec and I took the oath and runes, our souls tied together helped me realize a few things and made it harder to lose myself in dreams. But sometimes when a hunt would go south, or a bad day happened I would attack a relentless Isabelle or Alec who knew exactly how to get in my room.” 

Simon chuckled but it sounded forced even to his ears. “Did I make a terrible decision?” 

Jace shook his head. “I think there are going to be some consequences that you don’t see coming but it might be worth it. Only time will tell.” 

“You know when I was a kid, I wanted to be immortal,” Simon looked at the ground as the words came tumbling out of him. “I wanted to be a superhero too, fearless and strong and beyond death. ‘Cause that was what I most afraid of. Now I’m not so sure I want to be immortal. To watch everyone I love die and eventually even the world.”

“You could still die, for good. Unmade, is what Shadowhunters call it when a vamp dies.” 

“You think the Seelie Queen would let me die, she has eyes and ears everywhere and she could have some deal with Devil for all I know.” 

Jace laughed. “You were supposed to be the positive one.” 

“Sorry.” 

“Now I want you to promise me something...to stop apologizing.” 

Simon choked on the sorry that almost flew to his lips but he pushed it down. “Fine. I promise not to apologize. Happy?” 

“Never,” Jace smirked. Simon—despite the crippling doom he found himself drowning in, suddenly feeling the weight of his new life—smiled.   

“How come Shadowhunters don’t know how to drive?” Simon whined, feeling like never getting up again. “I mean they train you in like every weapon but learning to drive is where they draw the line.”  

“Take all the time you need before we take off,” Jace sighed and shifted. “I don’t want to die in a car crash of all things. I don’t want to be buried with the disgraced.” 

“Would you really be?” 

“I don’t think I’d be disgraced but I wouldn’t be honored enough for them to keep my body in the Silent City and burn to re-enforce the Silent City’s walls.” 

“What do they consider disgraced?” 

Jace swallowed hard. “Suicides and criminals, everyone else is either buried in their family’s tombs and mausoleums, usually politicians and non-combat Nephilim, the ones who live long enough to stop fighting, and those who die in battle are taken to the Silent City to rest until they were burned.” 

“What happens to those who die in accidents.” 

“A grave.” 

“They really put the suicidal people next to criminals?” 

“Yeah, but it’s kind of known that if you want to kill yourself let the demons do it and then you won’t bring shame to your family.” 

All the honor bullshit is ridiculous, suicidal people are not disgraced, they just see no hope in life and in the Shadowhunters business of fighting endless hordes of demons and their shit policies and barely veiled prejudice, Simon can see why that could happen. 

They sat in there for several moments until Simon had gathered himself together enough to drive home. When he got there he nearly melted into the bed. 

Jace, still armed to the teeth, stood in the corner. He was still very much alert and ready for a fight that wouldn’t come. Simon turned himself over, letting the mattress ease his worn-out body. Simon patted the bed, a silent invitation.  

Jace took it, coming to sit on the corner of the bed. “Sleep, Simon.” 

“You need sleep too,” Simon pointed out, God he was jeans and yet he didn’t even want to move. But sleeping in jeans was a hard pass so tried to get up but Jace stopped him, gently pushing him back. 

“What do you need?” Jace asked. Ever the Knight in Shining Armour, he was ready to do whatever Simon asked. 

“My sweatpants,” Simon said, he liked to be cozy when he slept. He wasn’t at all stalling the call of sleep to avoid another vivid nightmare. “And a t-shirt.” 

Simon shrugged off his light jacked and started at his shirt when Jace found his sweats and bed shirts and dropped the clothing on the bed. He took Simon’s wrists and pressed them into the bed. 

“You’re moving like your in pain,” Jace said like an explanation and started to undress Simon. He did with such care Simon’s heart broke with every movement. Simon helped as much as he could. It was intimate in a way Simon has never experienced, no fire to hide behind, only the quiet of the moment. They both had to bear it as Jace told him to lift his hips and pulled the sweatpants up. 

Simon did miss how Jace’s eyes constantly looked over his body, he didn’t flatter himself, he knew it was for injuries. Any mark the phantom fire left behind. Simon thought there was none until Jace took his arm and turned it palm side up to look at and stared at Simon's hand.

His palm was lined with lightning bolt scars, where the fire must have been the strongest, where it had originated in the rock before traveling down his body. The thin scars looked like they were already healed. That’s magic for you. Simon counted five zig-zagged scars. 

“Does it hurt?” Jace asked. It startled Simon from his magical scars. 

“No more than the rest of me.” 

Jace just nodded and his hand reached forward and his fingers, light as a feather, touched his scars, traced their lines. 

 “Now?” Jace put light pressure on the scars and nothing really besides a small itch. Simon closed his eyes and Jace started to rub at his hand, in slow circular movements and he worked his ways over Simon’s wrist. “Is this okay?” 

“Yeah,” Simon mumbled, letting Jace have free reign over his body. Jace massaged up Simon’s arm, circular movements being replaced with Jace’s thumbs as he worked his way over Simon’s arm and onto his shoulder.

 It felt so good, Simon was content to just let Jace work, his body going lax, all the tension releasing. Jace kept up his work and moved to the other arm, Simon just took it all in but Jace started to move him on his back and Simon helped him out. 

“Still awake?” Jace asked, straddling Simon’s lower back and starting at Simon’s shoulders.

Simon hummed, not feeling like moving ever again, he just wanted Jace to keep doing this, reducing him to sleepy contentment, his body gladly accepting the attention. 

Jace worked down his back, soothing knots and Simon was on the verge of sleep but Jace was flipping him over. And he moved down the bed, taking Simon’s legs in his hands and working on Simon’s legs. 

The consistent motion drove Simon to sleep, finally falling off the edge into the darkness that arched forward like the jaws of a monster, eager for him to fall into its mouth.

 ***

Simon woke up, the walls falling to dirt around him, Clary's voice lost in the wind calling him a monster and spearing him with her holy blade. Simon brought himself back to this world, panting without need and clutching Jace’s hand.

 Jace was sitting up on the bed, holding Simon’s hand like a vice and he pulled Simon back from the land of dreams. Simon was shaking and falling apart and Jace was there. His Jace always there, no matter how big the storm that threatens to consume him grows.

“It’s me, Simon,” Jace said, his voice calm but cracking with worry. “You’re okay.” 

Simon met his eyes and nodded, reminding himself he didn’t need to breathe, he wasn’t suffocating. Simon slumped against the headboard, Jace mimicked him, their hands firmly grasped between them, fingers entangled.

Jace didn't look like he'd slept at all, but his weapons and their holsters laid on the ground, Simon closed his eyes. "Do you sleep?" 

Jace chuckled. "You were only out for two hours, Simon," Jace rested his check against the headboard. "You still need more of you want to feel better."

"I know. The cure for most things is rest and food," Simon's eyes trailed down Jace's neck, to the bit barks just over his collar bone. Simon, without thinking, touched the mark. "Why haven't you healed it?"

Jace was still as stone as Simon touched the mark and the runes that sprawled out over his skin. "In case you needed more." 

Simon's hand had a mind of its own and Simon was too tired to stop it. It traced Jace's neck and jaw, the skin a mix of burnt and smooth skin. All of it was warm. Jace was always warm. 

“Sleep,” Jace said, his thumb continued to rub small circles on Simon’s hand. 

Simon shook his head, he couldn’t, the land of dreams was so cruel, he couldn’t stand seeing more death and blood and dirt burying him. It’s not like nightmares are new but they seem to be getting worse, the one in the van still haunted him, still vivid in his mind. 

He used his hand on Jace’s face to angle it, so Jace’s breath hit Simon’s face and their lips were a hair's breadth apart. 

“Can I kiss you?” Simon asked. 

Jace closed his eyes, as if it was too much to bear as if he could shut out the whole world behind his eyelids. Jace kept his eyes closed as he said, “yes.” 

Simon braced his hand on Jace’s neck and kissed him. Jace was still as Simon kissed him, Simon had no fire left to give and Jace was like rock to steady him. Simon was wind, running and he couldn’t stop. If he stopped he felt everything he was running from. 

So he kissed Jace, wanting less and more all at once but he didn’t want to stop, stop kissing, stop moving and start dreaming, falling into the jaws of his memories and thoughts, the labyrinth of his mind. 

Simon pulled Jace closer, he still felt wrung out, stretched too far and aching but he ignored it, he couldn’t die from pain, from magical fire. Simon’s wanted to get lost in the song of Jace’s lips, the high and low notes, sharps and flats, the music that Simon knew. Simon followed the song, he was a musician and songs flowed in his veins. 

He lost himself in the music, the music he stored in his mind, always there thanks to years of playing and the song he also knew; Jace. He knew Jace’s lips almost as well as his music, he knew what strings to play to make Jace sing sweetly. A song that was strong enough for Simon to exist in, far away from his mind. 

Jace gasped as Simon’s tongue explored, Simon drank it up, hitting the same string and letting go of Jace’s hand to better grip at him.

Jace took back control, knowing all the right notes to make Simon fall apart and Simon was under Jace in few movements, Simon held onto Jace’s neck as Jace’s hands found his waist. The song started to pound against Simon, like his heart might’ve if it still beat. Simon was far from his body, still like the wind and blowing. Blowing and trying to take Jace with him. Running in time with the song that thundered in the air, echoing off the walls. 

Simon threw his head back, baring his neck for Jace to take, like Jace had done for him and Jace took the offering, pressing his notes into Simon’s neck. Simon could drown in this feeling. If he could, he would steal it and savor it for the rest of his life but all he could do was hold Jace tightly. Silently begging him to fuel Simon’s wind, because stopping couldn’t happen for reasons Simon was forgetting but he just couldn’t. 

Jace was on top of him but he took care to make sure Simon was hardly supporting his weight. Simon wouldn’t break, he wasn’t glass, he was burnt and tried and he thought so strongly he wouldn’t break he pulled Jace down on him, begging to take some of the weight, only because he could. 

But under all that was glass, everyone was made of glass, if you peel back the layers and break down the walls everyone was glass and once you found their final layer you could break them into pieces. Sometimes the break was to put them together again and sometimes it would destroy them beyond repair. 

A shower of notes fell over Simon as Jace ignored his hands wanting to break himself to see if he could be whole again and the warmth of his hands touched Simon again. No storm to fuel but wind to blow. The stolen angel blood was made him warm, as if a fraction of heavenly fire dotted his nerves.

 But Jace stopped, the song in Simon’s ears broke, the notes fell silent and Simon shuddered with a bone-deep cold that even the Seelie Queen’s fire couldn’t burn out. 

“You need to recover,” Jace said, but his heart still beat as fast as Simon’s wind, and his eyes still ran over Simon’s body. 

Simon let his hands slip from Jace. “I’m just a bit sore, I’m not going to break.” Simon was rattled from the pain and promise he made. The scope of his life fully realized but he could ignore it. Today had pushed through every defense Simon had and Simon’s glass was cracked but if he just kept going he wouldn’t feel the cracks, he wouldn’t even feel it when he broke. 

“I never said you would,” Jace flopped down beside Simon, retaking his hand, the warmth   Simon’s cold. “Just sleep for a few more hours, drink some and then whatever you want.”

Simon turned and rested his head on Jace’s chest, the heart beating within like a lullaby but still, Simon clung to this word.

“I don’t want to fall asleep,” Simon’s pressed his nose against Jace’s sternum and kept his eyes open. “I can’t. I need to text Clary.” 

Jace pulled him close.“I already did, just try. For me.” 

“For you,” Simon said and closed his eyes, he let himself relax and felt Jace’s lips graze his forehead and found the same darkness waiting for him in his mind and he was too tired to fight as the jaws opened and ate him whole. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How come I can write smut pretty easily and yet some soft touches and words have me taking a moment.
> 
> Also in the books, vampires cry blood. 


	4. Or make me frown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you guys so much for all the love the support.

Simon knew he was running from his problems. He just didn’t care. Well, he did but he also didn’t. He pushed every thought hat cared down as he and Jace tumbled down into his bed. 

They were both shit-faced drunk.

They’d taken the time to actually drink this time before Simon took Jace home. It was a blur of streets and buildings.

 Their clothing laid on the ground, scattered like a shed skin after much struggle to free themselves from the outfits. Jace’s naked body pressed against him, his muscled body rippling as they clawed at each other. 

Simon was enjoying the feel of Jace on top of him, the smooth and harsh skin under his fingers, the way Jace hummed under his fingertips. Simon licked into Jace’s mouth, messy and sloppy but he didn’t care. 

Simon was lost in the song. 

Simon flipped them over, not taking a moment to break their lips apart. Simon felt everything and nothing all at once. He drank up Jace from his lips. 

But Jace wanted more, he bared his neck and Simon held onto his control. “We can’t,” Simon muttered against Jace’s check.

“Please,” Jace begged. 

Simon was full of blood but a little bite wouldn’t hurt. Just one.  The monster inside him that was beginning to feel less like something foreign lurking in him and just being him. But Simon held on. “No.” 

Jace arched into him, all desperation and arousal. The storm inside Jace was roaring. Simon could see it in every stressed line of his body. “Please,” Jace repeated. “Just once.” 

Simon’s fangs were out and he should have expected his and he was so drunk that his restraint was weak. So weak he fell for it.

 It couldn’t just be one bite. 

Not with how good it felt as his fangs popped and dipped into Jace’s flesh and the song was multiplied by tenfold as blood dripped down his throat. It was easy to get lost in Jace’s blood, it was like dying and being reborn. As star-fire coated Simon’s throat Jace moaned and Simon’s hand found the lube and he got it all over his bed but also on his fingers.

His hand found Jace’s rim and he pushed a finger in, rough but Jace was moaning. Simon kept drinking as he rubbed against Jace, his cock rock hard and each drag against Jace’s body sent lighting up his body. 

Jace’s neck was stained crimson from the blood Simon let getaway. Simon closed his eyes and focused on opening Jace up. Jace pulled him closer, his neck strained and his body was tense as a drawn bowstring. Simon kept fingering Jace open, drawing more moans and gasps from him.

Jace was muttering nonsense into the cool air and Simon forced himself to slow down, to gently open Jace up. Jace’s body withered and danced to the music Simon’s venom laced his blood with.

Simon finished fingering Jace and slicked up his cock with fumbling movements. He slid into the tight heat of Jace’s hole. Simon was absorbed in Jace in every sense, his teeth and cock deep inside and the rest of his body so close: they were one. Jace molded against him, so many pretty words from his pretty lips. 

Simon quickly snapped his hips forward and back, thrusting himself to completion and it was overwhelming. The blood was lifting him higher and higher. It was the only thing that mattered, this bedroom was the world.

All his hunger satisfied. 

Simon realized he’d forgotten a condom as he came deep inside Jace and finally let his fangs fall from Jace’s neck. 

And Jace rubbed himself off against Simon. With a strangled gasp he came over Simon’s stomach. Simon pulled out, lube and cum a sticky mess. Blood still dripped down Jace’s collarbone. 

They laid on top of the comforter, side by side in bliss.

Then the guild hit. 

He’d taken so much blood from Jace, the Shadowhunter had runes for it but still, he was unhinged.

“Don’t you dare apologize,” Jace said, he sat up and pulled his stele from his pants and burned marks into his skin. Healing and Blood Replenishment, Jace had told him when they met at the bar, assuring Simon he was fine. “You promised.” 

Simon hardly remembered, he didn’t want to. “I know,” he whispered. “Are you okay?” 

Jace nodded slid off the bed walked to the bathroom, he walked like he’d just taken it up the ass. Which he had. Simon  noticed the cum dripping down his thighs. 

Simon closed his eyes, God this can’t be happening. He’d taken a taste and he didn’t know how he would be able to go without it. But he let the post-sex, alcohol, and blood euphoria lull him to sleep. 

***

Simon woke up clawing at the air and blood trailing down his face. Jace was there. He was warm and steady. A rock to Simon’s wind. 

Jace had pulled Simon into his arm, half sitting up and all tangled in the sheets. He smelled like Simon’s body wash and the blood of Heaven. Simon didn’t need to breathe but he couldn’t stop. He pressed his nose into Jace’s chest, the steady beat calming. 

“It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m here,” Jace said over the storm. Simon told himself he wasn’t burning but his mind tricked his nerves into feeling the phantom fire explode through his body. Simon’s head was screaming, his thoughts in a jumble but so loud.

Simon was getting blood on Jace but Jace held him tightly and God he was warm. Warm enough for Simon’s cold to ebb away. A comforting warmth, nothing like the phantom fire of pain the Queen cast over him. 

“Jace,” Simon couldn’t manage much more. “Jace.” 

Jace pulled him closer and Simon melted into him. “I’m here.” 

Simon breathed Jace in. “Jace.” 

“It’s okay,” Jace repeated. 

Simon let himself relax into Jace, he looked up at Jace. “I’m good.” 

“What did you dream of?” Jace asked. “You woke up in a fit, reaching for something.” 

The world had been burning and Simon was drowning in the ashes, he couldn’t get to the surface. He didn’t need to breathe so he would’ve stayed there, no one would rescue him because he destroyed everything at the Seelie Queen’s order. 

In his chest, his heart, emotions burned.The ghost of his father still rested in his heart, giving him strength. He’d loved his family so much. Simon didn’t want to see how he’d react to Simon crawling out of the dirt. 

“I can’t,” Simon whispered into Jace’s skin and silence fell over them.

***

Jace didn’t scream when the nightmares hit but he withered, his body thrashed against the bed, his hands tangled in his hair like he meant to pull it out.

Simon wouldn’t let him. He shook Jace and when his mixed eyes opened Simon sat up and held Jace against his chest, over his still heart.

Jace didn’t sob or cry but he shook and molded himself against Simon. 

So the wheel turned and when one feel asleep and ensnared themselves in a nightmare, the other would wake—either from the wild movement or screams Simon let out—and drag them out of the darkness. 

They didn’t talk much and in total Simon, accidentally fell asleep twice and Jace only once. But they both needed sleep so they tried.

Simon watched as his clock changed from five-twenty-nine to five-thirty and Jace got out of bed. He watched as Jace drew his temporary runes for the day like Simon would brush his teeth and slipped back into his clothing, checking all his hidden knives and left without a word.

***

It happened again three nights later. 

Simon went to the Institute to check in on everything, bored and wanting to help. 

“You don’t have the mark anymore,” Alec said not even looking up from his paperwork at his desk. “You can help once you’re trained.”

“Oh God,” Simon muttered to himself. “If this a bad time to say I almost failed gym.” 

Alec flipped through his work. “The was before you turned into a vampire.” 

“But still.” 

“Train and once you’re cleared for combat you can become deputized.”

“Cool. Cool. Um, who will I be training with?” 

“The only ones who will put up with you—Jace or Izzy. Isabelle's out on a patrol so Jace will train you today. Unless that gets in the way of your sex life.” 

Simon wanted the floor to swallow him. Talking to Alec about having sex with his soul-brother is something he never wanted to do. “Um, it’s not like that.” 

Alec finally looked up, he looked tired. “Like what?” 

“Like a relationship. So training won’t mess it um up.” 

“Whatever you say,” Alec looked back down and picked up his pen. “Jace is lurking somewhere around here. Get him to eat after your training session and I’ll never ask you about your sex life again.” 

“He hasn’t been eating?” Simon asked. “Why?” 

“I’m not sure, he’s shutting me out of the bond and will hardly speak to me. Magnus says to give him time but I’m worried.” 

“How is Magnus?” 

Alec bit his lip and lifted his head again. “Adjusting. He won’t really talk to me either so…” 

Simon nodded and started to back up to the door. His fingers brushed the when Alec cleared his throat. 

“Jace is a complicated person. He says things he doesn’t mean and has so many layers and defenses. Just keep that in mind.” Simon nodded. “Get out of my office.” 

***

He found Jace in the training room throwing knives. He was a whirlwind of adamas as he alternated throwing to target on either side of the training arena.

“Show off,” Simon said, watching each knife find the bullseye. Jace turned to see Simon lurking in the doorway, the sweat he worked up from training—no doubt more than knife throwing—made his black shirt stick to his skin. 

Jace noticed his look and smirked. “Like what you see.” 

Simon let his gaze drop lower. “Seen better.” 

“I still doubt it,” Jace plucked his knives from the targets and pushed them all back against the wall.

“Alec said you’d train me,” Simon said, enjoying watching Jace put away all the targets. “I’m bored so let’s go.” 

Jace turned back to him and Simon thanked God that he couldn’t blush as Jace’s eyes wandered. “Have you had any combat training.” 

“No.”

 Jace gave the smallest of nods and took Simon to a room covered in matted floors and started to take Simon through various difficult yoga-like poses to warm up his muscles. Then high-knees (which Simon thought was just a ploy to embarrass him) and planks and finally taught Simon some defensive stances. Simon’s muscles strained as Jace took the offensive. 

“For a vampire, hand-to-hand combat is one of your best options, your advanced strength and speed are your best options,” Jace instructed. “But if you see a fight you can’t win, there is no shame in running. Got it.” 

“What about all this,” Simon gestured to Jace and the training area, as if encompassing the whole Shadowhunter culture. “Honor stuff.” 

“You’re a vampire,” Jace pointed out the obvious. “Shadowhunter honor doesn’t apply to you, you weren’t made to defeat demons so running is always an option.” 

“It’s not for you?” 

“Not unless the situation calls for it.” 

“Have you ever had to run?” 

Jace shook his head and looked down. “Your shoelace is untied.”

Simon didn’t know if it was a trick but he wasn’t risking it, he could manage without tying his shoelaces. “Whatever.” 

Jace rolled his eyes and lunged. Everything Jace said about how to properly defend yourself he forgot and jumped way out of punching range. “This is a fight I can’t win,” Simon said, halfway across the room. 

“I’m going to go easy on you,” Jace ran towards him and Simon sprinted back, too far back. His back hit the wall ad he froze as Jace was moving in closer. “You’re fast,” Jace said, getting closer and Simon ran to the other wall—or would’ve if Jace and his lightning-fast reflexes grabbed his arm and slammed him against the wall.

Jace held him by the shoulders against the wall and even with his strength, he didn’t know if he could get out of his hold. “This isn’t something you run from, Simon, this is training and that usually means getting knocked on your ass a few times.” 

“I can’t do this,” Simon shook his head and Jace’s breath was hitting his face, blood roared under his golden skin. Simon tried to ignore it. “I’m a lover, not a fighter.” 

“If you want to help us out on hunts you need to be trained,” Jace reminded him and pressed him harder against the wall. “Get out of my grip.” 

Simon thought of Clary learning basic self-defense moves since she was a girl in New York and Simon slammed his knee into Jace’s crotch and Jace staggered back and Simon slid out of his grip. 

“Decent,” Jace muttered once he recovered. Simon had already run across the room. “You need to harness your strength.”

Jace was fast too and they were circling each other, Simon looked down and found that his shoelace had really came untied. 

“You need to be lighter on your feet,” Jace said. 

“Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee.” 

“Exactly, who said that? It definitely wasn’t you.” 

“The man. The myth. The legend. Muhamad Ali.” 

“Never heard of him.” 

“Shocking.” 

Jace lunged and Simon tried to hold his ground but was pushed back and taken down to the matted ground. Jace was on his feet in a heartbeat. God, he smelled so good—or well his blood smelled like starlight.

“Get up,” Jace ordered. “Get up.” 

Simon laid on the ground, his mind only wanted Jace. His blood pouring into Simon’s mouth. “We should stop.” 

“No,” Jace took his arm and hauled him up. “You think if someone targets you because of your connection to the Seelie Queen, of what you will do for her, they will let you stop when you wish.” 

“No one would do that,” Simon forced himself back. 

“They might.” 

Simon wanted to get to the door, He thought he’d had enough blood today but God his body wanted more. “Jace.” The air felt humid to Simon and he tried to control himself.  _ One bite,  _ his mind whispered. 

“Simon?” Jace said and he struck again. But Simon wouldn’t take and he lost himself in his mind as he struck back. A jab to Jace’s jaw and a kick to his legs. Jace smirked and attacked again.

Again and again, Jace edged him on.

“You think the Seelie Queen won’t send people of her own to hurt you for her own amusement.”

Simon was wild, his hunger and fear deadly inside him and he was an animal. He was a monster in human skin. The monster beat in his chest like a heart. Jace was like water after the first two hits and slid around him.

Simon wouldn’t let him go and he grabbed for golden skin and found it, a shoulder and he was taken by the siren song of the blood Jace didn’t know it hummed and Simon’s lips were an inch away from Jace’s skin.

Simon was knocked back. Jace was graceful and a few smooth movements had him circling Jace. Simon’s skin was too tight, too hot. 

“If you want a piece of this,” Jace gestured to himself, arrogance laced his words but Simon could hear the slight waver. Hear his heart pick up. Smell the desire on him. “You have to earn it.” 

Simon took a moment and they locked eyes. The challenge made. Simon channeled his wind and loosened the leash he kept his hunger on. His teeth snapped free and Jace’s blood was so close—

Jace jumped back, literally. He jumped and arched back in a back-flip. Jace moved faster and each time Simon neared his skin he avoided it.

Simon grabbed at air and Jace spun out of his hand, a burning fire held in his heart. A warrior’s fire. Simon could feel the fire Jace breathed with, it fed each movement Jace made. Simon had air on his hands and he wanted to feel that fire. 

Simon tried to remember all the things Jace taught him. Nothing came to his mind. 

“Let go, Simon,” Jace urged, dodged Simon’s next half-attempted strike. “Let go.” 

Simon wanted too, but something deep inside him held on. He would let go once he had Jace. He snarled and reached for Jace. 

Jace hit Simon in the shin and got away. Simon bent down and pretended his skin was in agony—Jace’s strikes were firm but light—and Jace fell for the oldest trick in the book. 

Jace crouched in front of him and Simon surged forward, he put all his power into it as Jace fell back and hit the floor. Simon’s teeth scraped the skin of his neck. Before Simon could bite and let the waves of pleasure wash over him, Jace flipped them. 

Jace’s knees kept Simon’s against the floor and his hands pinned Simon’s to the ground. “So close,” Jace murmured in Simon’s ear. Simon couldn’t suppress a shudder. 

Simon could still hear the quick beats of Jace’s heart and he could feel how Jace’s blood still sang his song. “You win.” 

“I know.” 

“What’s your prize?” 

Jace’s mouth opened and then his entire body gave a harsh shudder, his hands locked open and Jace’s body sized. Simon didn’t know what to do. Jace withered atop him as if his bones wanted to be freed from his skin. 

Jace snapped back into himself and the shaking stopped, his hands held Simon’s arms like a vice. 

“That was a side effect,” Simon said. From him. From his venom. His fangs still snapped out and he couldn’t push them back in. “We can’t.” 

Jace flipped them over and threw his head back, sweat-stained skin. “Please.” Desire rolled off Jace. “Please, I need it.” 

Simon caused this. He caused it and should stop it. He inched closer, he wouldn’t lose control. Twenty seconds. That’s all he would give himself. 

Simon wouldn't lose control. He grounded himself with his nails digging into his hand and bit. 

Fire sang water. 

The blood was his water. His fire. Simon held both in the mouth. They danced together on his tongue. Jace breathed like he’d been suffocating and Simon took the offering Jace bestowed to him. 

He tried to regain some sense of control. Pain sliced through his palm. He was burning and drowning and he needed to stop. But Jace’s blood was better than any other he’s had. 

He needed to stop. 

But he didn’t. 

He couldn’t 

He couldn’t hold on. 

He fell. Into the darkness and cold that lingered inside. He took every ounce of blood Jace gave him. Golden embers fell on his tongue. Fire pooled around him, slithered up and down his spine.

Then water cascaded over him. Cooling and lavishing Simon. Where fire burned in the best way, the water filled with calm. With quiet. As Simon gulped more, fire burned and water flowed. 

Jace’s blood beckoned Simon forward. Simon wanted every ember Jace could give him. Slowly the monster receded. It curled around his heart, satisfied with its meal. It sharpened its claws for next time. 

Simon—two and a half minutes late—pulled his fangs out. All Simon was now is steam. When water and fire meet as equals that’s what happens. Steam that floated in the room. Steam that left the body that hit the bottom of the cold, dark well.

Simon pushed off Jace and laid on the matted floor. He shouldn’t have let it happen. He shouldn’t have let Jace start that game. He tried to resist hunting Jace like prey but it ended all the same.

Simon listened to the drum of Jace’s heart, the pounding of his breath. Simon listened and listened. Guilt crushed him into the floor. Jace drew runes and Simon didn’t move. Phantom chains held him sure as steel. 

Simon knew this was going to destroy him. He and Jace were going to shatter each other for mere moments of pleasure that made them forget. 

Alec told him to get Jace to eat. To help him. And he hurt him. Jace had edged him on, offering his blood to Simon. But guilt still strangled Simon. He still should have stopped, Jace had  venom inside him that made his body call for more. All Simon had in him was a monster that lusted for the blood of angels. 

***

Jace cleaned himself up. He wiped the blood from his skin and was back in the training room like nothing happened. “You got lucky,” Jace said. “Your shoe is still untied.” 

Simon shrugged. “I don’t mind,” Simon did but that wasn’t important. “Do you?” 

Jace’s eyes kept flickering towards it as they tried to have a stare-off. “Tie your goddamn  shoe.” 

Simon was enjoying his aggravation. “You should probably eat something,” Simon tried to play it off as just a suggestion. “It may help with the full-body shakes.”  

“I’m fine, now.”

“I’ll make a deal, I’ll tie my shoe and you eat something. You don’t look good. Have some Count Chocula. _ ” _

“Count Chocula?” Jace raised an eyebrow and before Simon could blink had moved way too close and yet not close enough. Jace’s hands found his hips and he started to slide down onto his knees. He was smirking, his hands trailed down Simon’s thighs. Simon thought of his grandma, Lilith, and anything that wasn’t Jace kneeling in front of him, ”You should find a new bargaining chip.” And the warm hands reached his shoelaces and tied them in a knot. 

“I have a few things in mind,” Simon rasped. Grandmas. Lilith's cruel face. Demons. Clawed, black demons who wanted to destroy the world. 

Jace smirked and slowly, achingly slowly, he felt his way back up Simon’s legs. “I still haven’t been given my prize.” 

Simon’s hand itched to touch Jace but he held back. “I figured getting a dose of venom from yours truly was enough,” Simon gave in to the urge and laced his fingers in Jace’s hair and yanked him up. “Considering how you begged me for it.” 

Jace wiggled against him, ducked his head down. Oh, Jace was enjoying this so much. The teasing jerks of his body spoke volumes. “But you wanted that too,” Jace’s lips brushed against his ear. 

Simon remembered Alec’s words:  _ Jace is a complicated person. He says things he doesn’t mean and has so many layers and defenses.   _

Was this all a distraction from his not eating? Was it simply he was horny and Simon knew he would hardly admit he likes to be  _ used  _ in bed but also taken care of? Layers so many layers to break through and look at the true man behind the facade and bluster. 

“What do you want, Jace?” Simon’s hands explored Jace’s neck, still damp with sweat. _ What is an act? _   Simon silently asked between words. 

Jace stilled at the words. “I don’t know,” Jace sounded painfully honest. “No one ever asks me that.” 

“I don’t just mean sex,” Simon urged the truth. Layers and layers. Stone upon stone. So much to dig through. 

Jace stepped back. The invisible strings connecting them tangled and fluxed. “What do you want me to say?” 

Simon didn’t know what caused Jace to react like that. “I want you to tell me why you’re distracting me with sex.”

Jace tensed and stepped back farther. “I’m not trying to distract you.” 

“Liar,” Simon knew Jace better than Jace thinks, all the quiet moments together he observed. All the glimpses behind the veil he stored away. Simon knows how Jace likes to  _ seduce,  _ if you will. It was like all the movements were there but none of his fire. And the flirting wasn’t his Jace. It was the Jace he would play, the womanizer Jace. The dominant persona that he takes what he wants. It’s a defense Jace puts up. In sex and in life. 

He’s so scared up loving. Of even getting attached because of his father. Because of Lilith. The falcon, he knew, Jace still saw in everything. Getting his neck snapped from Jace’s love. 

Jace bit his lip, his eyes flashed to the door. The side effects of the venom looked worse on him than Isabelle. Maybe it was the pure angel blood in his veins. Even with a dose moments ago, he looked unstable.

But he trying to pass as fine. Because he probably wasn’t eating because the venom made him nauseous.

Layers of stone. 

“Why do you always have to push?” Jace asked. Jace was standing in a—as Simon learned today—defensive position. Valentine used to break his fingers for playing a wrong note, it wasn’t beyond him to hurt his  _ son  _ when he fought back. 

“Why do you always have to hide?” Simon spoke softly. Like a prayer. “Why can’t we face  _ this _ .”

Jace was so tense he looked frozen in place. “Face what?” Jace’s voice was a deadly whisper. “There is no we, Simon.” With that Jace started towards the door.

Simon stepped back like it was a physical blow. As Jace’s fingers touched the knob: “Liar.” 

Jace looked back. The space between them was only a few steps but it felt like a ravine split between them. A line in the sand. 

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” Jace whispered. 

“We have a problem, Jace,” Simon could not keep this up. This charade of no strings. This charade of acting like it’s no big deal to be hooked on each other. Maybe it was all nothing, maybe it was Jace’s blood in the stomach talking. 

Maybe inside Jace, the venom pulled his stings, made him speak like a marionette. He’s started to care for Jace, he’s not sure what it is but he gives a damn what happens to him. It’s a baby crush but Jace doesn’t like him like that but friends (even with benefits) still face things together.

“I hoped you would say something else,” Jace shook his head. What did he want Simon to say? To ignore the issue they created. One bite was always a lie. Simon blamed himself for being so weak but it is what it is and they both have to find the light at the end of the tunnel. But first, you have to acknowledge you’re in a tunnel. But Jace left the room and the coldness seeped back into Simon’s bones. 

***

Simon’s hunger had subsided. Almost entirely. Simon thought about Jace while he sat around his apartment.

Their relationship flickered between moments of gentleness and care and when they both seemed to want to devour each other, take everything they could—sex, touch, blood, venom—and give everything to other, until they both were dust. 

_ “Why do you always have to push?”  _ Jace had asked that in the training room and Simon pondered it now. 

_ “I hoped you would say something else.”  _

What else? Simon didn’t know. He wanted to run back to Jace in few hours, as his hunger kicked back into full gear. The shadow always hovered over him and it hung low now. 

He drank a pint of cow’s blood. 

Then two. 

His mom had been an addict. Drunk for nearly two years after Dad died. She recovered. 

_ “Does it hurt,” he’d asked his mom when she explained, censored for a child's ears, what she went through. “To go without it.”  _

_ “Yes. For a while it does. It still kind of does but it eased a lot, it’s like a bad cut, it heals all the way but it still leaves a scar.”  _

_ “How did you do it,” Simon hadn’t understood how you bare pain. When he cut himself badly he cried and winced for days. “I hate pain.”  _

_ “I know, honey,” she smiled sadly. “Everyone has some steel in them, the strength they have deep inside, even if they forget it. I used mine.”  _

His mom got through it, mourning her husband, with two kids to take care of. It’s been a little over two weeks and he missed her so much. It hurt badly knowing he could never go back.

Simon hung his head. Shame and guilt wove together in his gut. 

Was there a difference anymore to his not-quite-dead boy between his hunger and addiction? 

Was he truly a monster?

His dad and mom had tried so hard to make their kids good people. Kindness was always not just preached but shown. What’s right and wrong mattered. 

He closed his eyes and cloud see the endless darkness his dreams conjured. Why, when he doesn’t need to breathe, is he so scared of drowning in dirt? 

***

Jace ate like his normal amount, in front of his siblings, to ease their worries. He actually kept it down. He’d been so nauseous the last two days, almost unbearable as the side effects kicked in after one day of post-bite bliss. 

They were worse than he thought they’d be. The full-body shakes had started with hand tremors and then to his legs then his whole body shakes at random. His stomach had rolled. His skin had felt too tight. 

He felt some of the side effects creeping in as he tried to sleep. It felt so good during the bite—soaring and weightless—and aftermath: the quiet it brings. He hadn’t felt like a monster, he’d felt like nothing.

He thought for a moment when Simon spoke that he was going to say something Jace only heard in a cruel twist in his dreams. Only let himself imagine it when they are tangled together and he can pretend it means something. 

He knows Simon cares, but Simon cares for everything. Simon cares for him like a friend. Everything in the bedroom is for how good it feels. He trusts Simon with control and Simon trusts him too.

He should be happy he even has Simon in any sense but he craves more.  _ Why can’t we face this,  _ Simon had asked. For a second Jace thought he meant the feelings Jace had, that he had them too and wanted to talk about it, face it.

But he meant the real thing connecting them: the physical. The blood and the venom. 

Jace scolded himself. He would hurt Simon. There was no alternative to that. Sabriel, his falcon was proof.  _ To love is to destroy _ . He knows love gives strength but Simon was not meant for this world. Not meant for Jace. He was too good. 

So good, Jace knew he could very well be his father—no, Valentine—breaking Simon’s neck. Not really of course, but being the one to doom Simon—to bring him nothing but pain. Because Jace was broken.

All he had to offer was a bouquet of broken shards.    
  



	5. I had strings but now I'm free

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> before we get started a warning 
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: addiction, past parental abuse, loss of bodily autonomy at the end (kind of)

Simon drank twice his normal amount of blood that day. Something deep inside his bones called for Jace. It called for something just out of reach, an insect you couldn’t catch, a fish deep in the sea and your line was an inch too short. 

Simon wouldn’t let himself get another tase—he couldn’t. He treated it like a rash, he’s had poison ivy several times in his life and he knew tricks to not scratching. Creams and ointments of course but also distractions. If you’re bored you’re so much more likely to scratch. 

But nothing could satisfy Simon.

When he tried to read—his eyes saw the words but his mind couldn’t focus—he would reread the same passage three or four times. He gave up soon. He tried to watch a movie but he, again, couldn’t focus. The movie played but Simon couldn’t take his mind off Jace. 

(How could he not?)

Each time he thought of Jace it was scratching the rash. It was pulling his own tendons taut. It was hard not to think of Jace. Golden skin and blood like amber and melted gold laced with sunlight. The smell of the blood alone—rich like chocolate and wine, like smelling sugar for the first time—was enough to send Simon pacing.

He wouldn’t run to Jace. He couldn’t. For his mom. For Jace. He couldn’t. He hung on, like the stubborn leaves in fall, not withered enough for the wind to wash them away. Simon drank more blood. It tasted plain. 

He was doing  _ fine.  _ Okay, maybe not  _ fine.  _

And his resolve—it was a charade, a band-aid over a stab wound, easy to make locked away—-shattered when he and Jace met again for another training session. Alec had said over the phone if he missed one class...

Simon had Jace against the wall in a second. Simon kissed Jace like he wanted to brand his lips. He shouldn’t.

 He shouldn’t.

 But wasn’t this the cycle junkies took. You take a hit then you go through all the guilt and self-loathing and promise to never do it again and then you do.

It was terrible. He knew distantly but the smell of pure Angel blood was like nothing else he’s ever experienced. It was bad that they were doing this. For his Mom. For both of their sakes, they shouldn’t.

But they do. 

Simon pressed his knee between Jace’s legs and Jace, like a good boy, spread them. “Lock the door,” Jace murmured against his lips. “Simon,” he gasped. 

Simon didn’t move.  _ Why do you always have to push?.  _ They hadn’t made up. They hadn’t talked about it. He ignored Jace’s request and burnt the mark of his lips onto Jace’s. He braced his hands on the wall on either side of Jace’s head. Jace barred his neck. 

He wanted to hide this secret from everyone as much as Jace did. The Simon that died when Camile put her fangs in his neck would have immediately have locked the door. But that Simon was gone and this Simon enjoyed the game. 

There was a thrill to being caught. There was a thrill in how Jace’s eyes turned bronze-dark when he saw that Simon didn’t move.

The door could be opened. 

Anyone could see them. Simon smirked and sank his teeth into Jace’s honey-colored skin. He understood why vampires died for this. It was a song like nothing else. A chorus of a climbing crescendo. The feeling the hunger finally snapping. Finally breaking. 

The feeling of being able to do anything. To fly and never have to land. To run and never stop. Like the highest hill on a roller-coaster, the long drop and the sweep back up and over and over hill after hill. Wings of darkness shielded them from the light, wings from Simon’s back. Simon encased them in the shadows like a hug, a caress of the very thing Jace had been bred to fight off. 

Simon tasted the stars. He tasted the Milky Way in the swirl of Jace’s blood. The Sun was only one of trillions of stars that hung in in the endless expanse of space. The Sun was a small star and Simon felt like he’d tasted the heat from the hottest of stars, the one that burnt the brightest.

Simon drank up Jace from his neck, Jace let out broken moans and gasps, razors in his voice. It cut Simon in the best way. Jace whispered words in a language Simon didn’t know.

_ “Tua. Tuus sum. Tuus sum. Sum tua usque in sempiternum. Tua, amans. Tua.”  _

And Simon drank up his blood while more maybe-Latin spilled from Jace’s lips. 

“Amans,” Jace whispered and shuddered as Simon took and took. “Tua,” Jace whimpered the word. 

Simon pulled his teeth out, he didn’t touch Jace but he licked the blood from Jace’s neck and cleaned the wound of blood with his tongue. 

(Simon didn’t know but vampire saliva had anti-coagulating properties)

_ “Tuus sum,”  _ Jace continued, even though each time he spoke in the tongue it sounded like it held the answers of the world, and they were terrifying. 

“What are you saying?” Simon asked, he wanted to touch Jace but he had a game in mind and Jace could love and hate (in the best way) to play. 

“Nothing,” Jace said, he lowered his head and met Simon’s eyes. “My room is down the hall.”

Simon nodded. “Do you have Shadowhunter proof cuffs?” 

Jace sputtered at the request and Simon didn’t flinch. “I can get some,” Jace said slowly. “Why?” 

“Because I want to hunt rogue Shadowhunters,” Simon’s words dripped in sarcasm. “Why do you think? I want to tie you up.” 

Jace looked very tense. 

“Only if you want to,” Simon said, because Jace had to be clear of what they were doing. “It’s okay if you don’t.”

Jace nodded and left. Simon made his way to Jace’s bedroom. 

***

Jace’s bedroom was simple, no posters, nothing very personal beyond a few frames and books. Weapons were discarded everywhere. 

Jace locked the door.

He had a pair of cuffs with him and used a rune to secure them to his headboard. He didn’t say anything to Simon when he drew two runes on a scrap of paper. One was a tight knot the other a swirl of many branches. 

“This one,” Jace pointed to the tight knot of a rune. “Is lock, the other unlock.” 

Simon nodded. “Wait, I thought only Shadowhunters could draw runes.” 

“We’re the only kind who can wear them on our skin but usually Shadowhunters can only use them since we’re the only ones with steles.” 

Simon nodded and Jace put his stele in Simon’s hand. “Cool,” he said. “Very cool.” 

Jace smirked like he wasn’t about to be tied down—or maybe that was why he was smirking. 

Simon laughed and pulled him into a kiss. 

“Why are you laughing?” Jace asked as they parted and Simon pulled the shirt off Jace’s torso. 

Simon really didn’t know why. “Not sure,” he pushed Jace back against the covers. He went easily. 

“You’re insane.” 

“Probably,” Simon pulled off Jace’s way too tight pants in a few pulls. Slipped off Jace’s socks and left him only with his family ring around a chain on his neck. Simon retook the stele and Jace put his wrists in the open cuffs.

“Are you sure?” Simon asked again because it’s not okay if he isn’t. “We don’t have to.” 

“Get on with it mundie.” 

“I’m not a mundane anymore,” Simon reminded him, he started to draw out the rune with one hand and held the cuff shut with the other. 

“You still act like one,  _ amans. Sacris. Sol et stellae meum.” _

“What are you saying?” Simon asked again. “Is it dirty talk, thinly veiled insults? 

“Would you believe me if I said neither,  _ illuminatio mea.”  _

Simon was hardly listening to the actual words, the velvety murmur had him unable to even remember what Jace had spoken. He finished with both cuffs. “Will you ever tell me.” 

“Maybe one day.” 

It was like they’d never fought.  _ Why do you always have to push?  _ They both ignored it, Simon knew it wasn’t healthy but neither was being hooked on each other like this. But neither could fight the magnetic pull between them. 

Simon was still fully dressed and Jace laid out naked and helpless. Simon maneuvered to sit in front of Jace’s feet. His knees were up but his legs were still closed. _ Like a proper lady, _ the voice of Simon’s mother said to Becca in his distant memories.

Simon almost laughed at the thought of the sassy, arrogant, demon killer as a proper lady. Laughs didn’t come as easily now. 

This was wrong, Simon thought distantly. This was hurting them, the connection was bad, the association with sex and blood-drinking was bad but Simon understood why some addicts never stopped. 

But the deed was done and Simon pulled Jace’s legs apart and like everything with Jace when it’s Simon’s hands, he  _ went.  _ His legs spread and Simon’s eyes swallowed the sight. “Do you have a safeword?” 

“No.” 

“Pick one” 

“Seraphs.”

 Simon nodded and ignored his increasing hard-on. “Don’t move,” he ordered Jace and left the bed. Simon started messing with Jace’s stuff. He picked up sharp blades and swung them through the air. “What? This is supposed to be a training session, right?” 

 Jace didn’t say anything. But he also didn’t move. Simon wondered if he simply told Jace to keep his hands on the headboard if he would keep them there sure as the cuffs. Something to try out later. 

“Am I holding this right, it’s how they hold it in the movies, I would know I’ve watched  _ Lord of the Rings,  _ at least a hundred times.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Whatever,” Simon dropped the short-sword and picked up a dagger, it didn’t light up  but it sure could hurt someone. Simon made sure he picked up and toyed with every weapon in the open. 

“Simon,” Jace ground his hips into the air, his erection steel and much harder than it had been before Simon started playing with sharp things. “Please.” 

Simon didn’t drop the dagger he held and walked up to the bed, he tapped the flat side of if on Jace’s hip. “Strike one. I said not to move.” 

“Can I move my lips?” Jace asked, so mockingly that Simon said no. 

“Yes,” Simon didn’t lift the dagger, he would never use it but there that thrill with something that could-but-never-would hurt you. “But neck and bellow…”

“How many strikes do I get?” 

“So many questions, sweetheart. Do you anything about the world? Three strikes.”

“And what happens then?” 

Simon honestly didn’t know what he had in plan for a punishment. “Then you get punished.” 

Jace closed his eyes and nodded. He did not move. 

And Simon resumed, pushing down his arousal. It would be worth it, he told his dick, just wait. Simon set down the dagger and started investigating more things. 

There were thick books lining the bookshelf and Simon ran his hands down their spines. Demonology and Nephilim books mostly. A few poems (the long-ass kind) Paradise Lost. The Odyssey. The Iliad. 

“You need to read better books,” Simon said. “Lord of the Rings is a must. Harry Potter is a classic as far as I’m concerned. There is also a critical lack of comic books, you probably don’t know who Kal-el is.” 

“You’re right I don’t.”

“You were deprived as a child.”

At that, Jace didn’t say anything for a while. “My father—Valentine, gave me everything I wanted,” Jace’s voice lost the teasing edge. “But he…I can’t have the conversation naked and tied to a bed.” 

Simon nodded and kept looking through Jace’s stuff. Jace didn’t say anything to stop him. He finally ended up back at the edge of the bed. 

“By the Angel,  _ amans,  _ what are you waiting for?” 

“I’m enjoying the view, Jace,” Simon smirked at his impatience and started to take off his shirt. It was flannel and instead of just slipping it over him like he always does, he unbuttoned each clasp. “Tell me what,  _ amans,  _ means,” Simon pronounced it more or less correctly. He didn’t have the same ease as Jace but he managed. It was one of the only words Simon had been able to latch onto. 

“It means idiot,” Jace said but a flicker on his face gave away his lie—and how he said it, like it meant something important. 

“You’re a terrible liar,” Simon let the shirt fall to the floor. Jace’s eyes swept hungrily over Simon’s skin.  “It’s refreshing to see you bad at something.” 

Simon unbuttoned his jeans and Jace’s hips jerked forward. 

“Strike two, baby,” Simon re-clasped his pants and watched Jace try not to wither. “I wonder if I looked up  _ amans,  _ what will show up.” 

Jace said nothing. What was he saying in an unknown language? Simon had his phone but he didn’t take it out. 

“Too bad, I have no idea how to spell it,” Simon mused. “Would it be a-m-a-s, or is there some silent letter Latin rule. Say something else.” 

“Get on with it,  _ praeberi fari meum, _ ” Jace said in that same drawl he used when speaking probably-Latin. It sent a shiver down Simon’s spine.

“You see, Jace, I was the kind of kid who drank my hot chocolate slowly so I could enjoy it.   
Simon understood the vampire venom did things to Jace, made him more sensitive to touch so he wouldn’t drag this out too long. Just enough. 

Simon draped himself over Jace, like a leopard over its prey, like a vampire over their victim. Simon took Jace’s lips, reclaiming them as his. He still, very purposefully didn’t let any part of him, other than his lips, touch Jace. Jace parted his lips—opening for Simon to  _ take take take.  _

Jace’s legs fell back farther and Simon put his hands on Jace’s hips. “Strike three,” Simon said hoarsely.

Jace shuddered, his cock leaked pre-come and he stared at Simon like he was diamond, a gem that all the light bent around. Simon slid to the very edge of the bed and Jace’s hips thrust up, the forgien tongue was back and it fell like pomegranate seeds from his lips, the ones Pershone ate, six shining red seeds and she was bound the Underworld.  

Simon’s cock was so hard in his pants but he ignored it. Even though it was like his body singing, the release of his venom and the drinking of Jace’s blood awoke something deep inside him. The monster that was reborn without any hunger, something old and patient. 

Simon got up off the bed and walked around. “Do you have any candles? I feel like it would set the mood you know.” 

Jace had his head thrown back, every muscle strained, his skin glistened in the light and his body was like the wax a candle burned in, fire consumed Jace. 

Because this was the worst punishment for Jace: being left alone. Being left helpless to Simon’s whims was just a little game but this, Jace’s fear was very real and Simon was balancing the fear with bliss. It was a careful game. 

_ “Amans,”  _ Jace hissed, his arms flexed but didn’t come free. He didn’t safeword. It was like the knife on Jace’s hip, both of them knew deep down Simon would never hurt Jace but they could play with the controlled danger.

“Don’t move,” Simon said and Jace didn’t. Simon pretended to look for candles and while Jace laid perfectly still, his head still thrown back and Simon struggled with his jeans button but eventually slid off his pants.  Still in his underwear, he crept forward. 

Jace breathed deeply, his heart pounded like hoofbeats of a stampede, he still didn’t move. Simon smirked and turned from Jace acting like he was very interested in a book about demonology. 

Even with his back to Jace, he heard the intake of breath. “By the Angel Simon, what are you doing?” 

“Chillin’,” Simon said like this was his usual method of chilling. “What are you doing, Jace?” 

Jace’s heart was still pounding like a drum, another instrument in Simon’s band playing his song. “Hell if I know.”

Because he didn’t. It was all in Simon’s hands and Simon took it, it beat like a drum, like Jace’s heart. Simon nursed the control and slid off his boxers. Jace’s eyes were like anchors on his back and Simon let them pull him.

 They were magnets now. Searphfire lit the room, that cold, the terrible cold feeling had left Simon for a moment. He was in control, he told himself. Control over himself and Jace. Simon slowly knelt on the bed before Jace.

Laid out like an angel on Simon’s bed. Golden as if Midas touched him and the flames surrounded them.

It wasn’t a spell to Simon. It was a  _ song. _

The song came from his mouth as he slotted it against Jace’s, again he claimed every inch of Jace. With his hands and teeth and tongue. 

“Simon,” Jace whispered and Simon hardly heard him over the storm, a shower of fire and thunder made of Jace’s heart, lighting cracked inside Simon. 

Simon adjusted himself and he lost all control over his lust. It was a black hole, devouring everything, nebulae, stars, light, planets,  _ Jace.  _

Simon let himself get lost in the feeling, flesh on flesh, each scrape of rune and scar kissed skin was magma on Simon’s skin. 

Simon dug through the nightstand and found the lube and forced himself to work slowly. To open Jace’s wielding body to his fingers.

It’s as if the exchange of blood and venom had strengthened. As if it created a bond, body to body, soul to soul. When both of them were shaking with pleasure-pain and each touch sung to an impossible song—too high, too low, too intense,  _ too much. _

Simon made his way back to Jace’s lips, while he opened up Jace, he stole kisses from his lips. Simon added a second finger and Jace’s arms strained against his bonds. He was gasping and withering. 

And Simon wanted to break him. 

Not in a bad way. No. Never. He wants to see Jace’s walls break, shatter, fall into ruins. He wants to see the glass heart under all the bluster. He wants to see Jace break in the sweetest of ways, melt into liquid gold. Break in the way that you can easily put yourself back together, shining with the light, and harnessing it. 

Simon didn’t hurt Jace once while he fingered him. Never did he make it burn. Because that’s what Jace wanted and Simon didn’t give it to him.

(Not yet.) 

Simon watched as Jace’s hands balled into fists and then uncurled. As his mouth opened and closed and was thrown back. The lines of the throat beautiful, the mark of Simon’s teeth a brand.

(Of this sickness between them. A drug dealer and junkie.)

“By the Angel, Simon,” Jace hissed. “Go faster.” 

Simon saw beads of sweat race down Jace’s body, like diamonds over gilded skin. Simon, in spite, didn’t. He crooked his fingers in just the right way and Jace held back a moan as best he could, Simon still heard it. 

Simon one-handed fully stripped. Bare he continued, Jace’s eyes were feline and golden, they devoured him. 

 Simon added another finger and Jace’s vibrated. Jace’s hips begged for him, his cock for even the barest kiss. Simon didn’t give it to him. He used his other hand to hold Jace’s hip down. 

Simon wiggled his fingers deep inside Jace and then held himself still.

Jace cursed him.  _ “Raziel,”  _ Jace tried to move his hips but Simon had vampire strength and he held them down.  _ “Damn you, amans.”  _

“Are you calling me Raziel, I’m flattered,” Simon couldn’t help himself and he smirked at Jace’s face. Simon couldn’t hold on much longer, he’d gotten so much practice at holding back his hunger it was second nature. “Tell me what  _ amans  _ means.” 

Jace took a deep breath. “It’s Latin.”

“No shit,” Simon said even though he hadn’t been sure.

Jace laughed to himself. “I’m not going to tell you, a _ mans.  _

Simon was burning up inside, his control sand through an hour-glass. And Simon pulled out his fingers, added more lube to his fingers and lathered his cock. 

“You’ll tell me eventually,” Simon leaned over Jace, lined himself up, god, Jace’s hole was so wet it was like a girls. Simon sunk in. Not slow at all. But once he was fully in Jace he gave Jace a moment. 

It was better than the last time they’d mixed blood-drinking and sex together. It was how drawn out it had been. It was how long they’d avoided each other, how long the hunger had time to simmer.

It was fire. It was too black holes meeting. 

The effect was an explosion.  

Simon snapped his hips. Jace's legs hooked around Simon’s hips, locking them together and Simon couldn’t do anything but thrust in and out and kiss Jace. 

When he pulled back, jumbled, breathy Latin spilled from Jace’s lips, it sounded like broken shards of glass, his breaths sharp and quick. 

_  “Nolite ire, ne derelinquas me, obsecro. Noli me conteram vobis. Non possum accipere, amans,” _ Jace withered, shaking like a leaf and his words whispered with such brokenness, such pain, Simon cupped Jace’s face.

His eyes were locked shut, more Latin poured out. The same few words invoked over and over again, A mantra. Like a spell. A song he played on his heartstrings like a harp, agony, and desperation, the two notes over and over again.

Simon lowered his body onto Jace’s pressed chest to hip, the ice curled around Jace’s heart only seemed to grow tighter. 

“Jace, open your eyes,” he ordered. 

Jace kept mumbling Latin, his legs wrapped around Simon, his hands strained against the bindings. His back arched like a bow and Simon told himself it was the effects of the venom, it heightened everything. Simon lavished Jace’s neck with kisses, his hunger only a simmer because Jace was in pain. He kissed and nipped and Jace’s words were falling like shards, shrapnel landing in Simon’s skin. 

“It’s okay,” Simon said against Jace’s flushed skin. The lights were still and Simon couldn’t help but think this was a moment only the dark should witness. Simon fisted his hand in Jace’s hair, the strands like silk threads in his hand, and he yanked. “Jace, look at me.”

Jace opened his eyes, something intense rested in them. “Simon,” he pulled Simon in impossibly more with his legs. Simon pressed his lips to Jace’s and took his ankles from where they wrapped around his hip and  _ shoved  _ them back on the bed. 

“I’m here,” Simon whispered in Jace’s ear, his hips kept moving, thrusting in and out and Jace’s hips found the rhythm. 

“Tua,” Jace said like it was the note that could shatter glass, destructive and powerful and Simon had no idea what it meant. “Tua.”

Simon moaned as all he felt was Jace, the tight heat around his cock, the skin under his, the words in his ears.  Simon kept chasing down his pleasure, he ran like a cheetah and Jace edged him on. 

They danced on a ledge, whisked around in each other's arms, a waltz, crowned and wreathed in fire. Even the stars turned to watch them rise to high just to fall. 

“Hurt me,” Jace begged and it drove them higher as Simon picked up his pace and drove Jace further into the mattress. Simon forgot and so did Jace. Forgot the pain in their minds. Forgot the cracks in them as they lived in bliss beyond normal.

It was like all they’d ever done together was a river and now the ocean roared between them. The venom in Jace’s body laughed and ran in his blood. Nerve endings became more sensitive and exploded.

To intense. 

To. 

Intense. 

Simon’s fangs popped and Jace bared his neck. Simon drank from Jace’s golden veins again. Like it was the fountain of youth and Simon was old and grey. Jace was a Shadowhunter and could take it as the ledge rose and rose. They touched the stars. 

It wasn’t that Simon was hungry but he could eat. It when you push yourself to finish your plate. Force room in your belly for cake or seconds.

_ “Noli me conteram vobis,”  _ Jace gasped, each word drowning with emotion. Something Simon couldn’t place. 

Simon drank for a few seconds and he was flying, the ground so far away and it couldn’t touch him. He was with the stars. He was a fire in the wind. Breath in the sky. Angels in Heaven, all gifted from Jace’s blood. 

Simon came deep inside Jace. He was overwhelmed with the feeling, it was lighting. It was not being hungry. It was a supernova, all the stars he swallowed bursting and Simon, still a black hole, took all the light. Simon hit the ground, shattered. The song reached in crescendo. The notes weren’t sounds but feelings and he was like spider silk, winding and winding, making a web of notes, a loom like the Fates. 

And Simon let out a rush of venom and Jace, with his cock untouched, came all over both of them. 

They rode out the final notes together and Simon’s fangs slid back.

***

They laid joined together for a while. Jace shook and so did Simon. The ocean in them howled like a wolf to the moon. 

Simon pressed their foreheads together and saw tears on Jace’s face. He kissed them from his skin. They said nothing. 

Simon gathered his focus and took up the stele and drew the unlocking rune on the cuffs. Jace’s arms wrapped around and Simon held Jace and Jace him.

Simon was in control. He’d told himself over and over again for days but now he felt like it. Hunger—of any kind—didn’t hang on him. 

***

Jace blamed the venom for it all. How he’d felt like he was shattering—not like before, like he had been unmade, torn down intimately and gently.

He blamed it for how he felt when Simon was there and he didn’t know, couldn’t know without his hands to test if he was real. The fear lingered. If this connection was broken, if they got over this…  

What would be left. 

(Nothing) 

***

Simon closed his eyes and laid down next to Jace. “We need to stop.” 

Jace said nothing. 

***

Simon’s body locked Jace against the wall, his fangs dug into Jace’s neck and the _ song _ took over him. 

Simon kissed Jace with blood-stained lips and Jace shuddered against him.

 “We need to stop.” 

Jace was quiet. 

***

On Jace’s bed, Simon held Jace tightly on his lap. Chest to chest and lazy with the lull of blood and sex, they kissed. 

Simon’s hands explored Jace in this quiet moment and Jace let him map out his body. Jace shuddered as Simon’s hands found his hips. 

“You’re so sensitive,” Simon said, his hand moved back and grazed Jace’s wet hole. “So needy.” 

Jace flushed with shame, growing hard again and Simon’s fingers toyed with him. Jace’s nails dug into his shoulders and his hips jerked forward and back. 

It was the blood that made Simon’s heart swell. It was the venom that made Jace look at Simon like he hung the moon and stars, like he was the eighth wonder of the world.

_ “Amans,”  _ Jace murmured and he ducked his head against Simon’s shoulder. “What is happening to us?” 

Why does Simon feel like he’s flying blind and falling into a pit dark and deep as Tartarus at the same time? How did this deal of no strings lead to them in chains?

Simon closed his eyes. “I don’t know.” 

It was this time who said. “We need to stop.” 

And Simon left with nothing to say. 

 

***

Simon skipped the next training session. 

Then the next. 

He turned off his phone.

So when Jace showed up Simon wasn’t surprised. On his couch, Jace looked terrible, sweat soaked with bags under his blood-shot eyes.

“No,” Simon said to the question Jace hasn’t asked yet. He got his blood filled thermos and drank a few gulps. Dull and boring compared to the fiery blood in Jace’s veins. 

“Alec and Izzy know,” he said. “I couldn’t avoid them forever. Izzy figured it out from all the withdrawal symptoms and told Alec. By the Angel soon everyone is going to know. Alec took me off active duty and now,” Jace shook his head. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Stop. I’m not some victim, we both got ourselves into this mess.”

“I’m still sorry that it happened, Alec and Izzy finding out..” 

“Why do mundies do that—apologize for things that aren't their fault?” 

“Because even if it isn’t our fault we still feel bad,” Simon made sure to keep his distance and leaned against the wall of his living room. 

“Mundanes are weird,” Jace said.  

_ You still act like one,  _ amans. Sacris. Sol et stellae meum

“I wish I could be a mundane again,” Simon took a slip of blood and hated how, even dull compared to Jace’s blood, it still tasted better than normal food. “I took it all for granted.” 

“Most mundies do,” Jace said. Simon wondered if he ever got mad at the world he was protecting for not knowing he and his people die and bleed for their safety.  That he might one day die too.. 

It was like being a masked hero but also not, the superhero still gets some credit as their alter ego.

“I could never do it,” Simon shook his head. “I couldn’t be a Shadowhunter, for so many reasons.”

Simon helped save the world but that was different from going out every night and risking dying. Dedicating your whole life to protecting the world.

“I know.” 

“If you could be anything other than a Shadowhunter what would you be?

“I guess a mundane.” 

“No, I meant like what would you do as a mundane, like what job would you want, what hobbies would you have?”

“A model,” Jace said without missing a beat. 

Simon laughed dryly. It was like before they fought and Jace was fake flirting, they were saying the right words but something was missing. “For real?”

Jace seemed to actually think about it for a moment. “I don’t know.” 

“I was going to be an accountant,” Simon knew it was only several weeks ago when he had his future set. He’d play with his band throughout college but unless they made it big (or at least some profit) he’d let it drop. 

“You could still be.” 

“Where would I get the money for college, I’m kind of legally dead. I heard clans can get you a new identity and loan you some cash but I don’t have a clan. And how could I live as a mundane accountant after all of this?” 

Jace didn’t say anything so Simon went on, unable not to. Not when he’d opened this can of worms, pandora's box filled with the truth. 

“This apartment is paid for by the Praetor Lupus, they won’t discontinue it on someone who saved the world. They also send me cash once a month. So I sing on the side but I don’t think I can enter the mundane world again.”

“You’re immortal,” Jace said, like he could ever forget. “You have time.” 

Simon took another sip of the plain boring blood. “I hate it.”

“Having time? Jace asked, something strange on his face. What was it like to be a kid and know you probably will die before you turn thirty?  

“The whole situation. The cost of the time. I’m going to have to watch everyone I love die. I’m going to have to drink blood to survive, serve the Seelie Queen.” 

“Valentine told me when I was a kid that immortality was a demon curse, that the cost was your soul for time.” 

“He’s probably right.” 

“He’s not,” Jace said. “He’s not right about anything, he broke my right hand when he realized my left handed swordwork wasn’t good enough. He tied me up in Infernal chains that he said Downworlders and Greater Demons would use and forced me to figure out a way out. I laid in a dark room for three days in my own waste. He wanted the Downworld to die. He tricked me and Clary so many times. He faked his death in front of me, I had to see that as a kid.” 

Simon stared at Jace, he knew Valentine was dead but Simon wanted to raise him just so he could kill him, slowly.  _ He tied me up in Infernal chains.  _ He remembered how tense Jace had looked when he’d suggested restraints. “I’m so sorry, Jace.” 

The falcon story. What ignorance made him think that was the worst Valentine did to his son?  His isolated son. 

“He’s wrong, Simon. Have you seen Magnus? Have you seen yourself? You don’t act because of honor, you act because it’s the right thing to do.” 

Simon wanted to hold Jace and feel Jace holding him back, but he held back. He was holding back his hunger and being so close might break the dam of restraint he’d built for himself.

“We don't have to ever to restraints again,” Simon said even though that wasn’t really the point of Jace’s speech. 

“It’s not about that, Simon. I wasn’t the same because it was you in charge. I trust you.” 

_ I trust you.  _

How? How, when Simon can’t trust himself? How can Jace place his glass heart in Simon shaking, blood soaked hands?

Simon closed his eyes. “You can stay here if you want,” Simon said and he meant it. He understood why Jace wanted to hide from people. It made it easier. 

“Is that a good idea?” 

“We both need to get over it and what better way than to sweat it out together, I know I’m going to run into you again after we get through this so it makes sense.” 

“Promise me something?” 

 “Anything.” 

“No matter what I say don’t feed off me.” 

“I promise.”

***

It was hard. So hard. But it was needed. If they were going to stop this they needed to sweat it out together. 

So he can bear the pull of Jace’s blood. 

So Jace can bear the pull of venom. 

He showed Jace the Fellowship of the Ring. As the Fellowship broke Jace’s hands started to shake.

Then his whole body.

Off and on. 

Like a pendulum swinging between the agony of the seizure-like shakes and waiting for them to come. 

He laid on the couch, sweat gleamed on his skin, natural oils soaked his hair. He pressed his hands to his stomach as if that could ease the pain.

Simon pressed his hand to Jace’s forehead like his mom used to do to him. It was burning. 

“Please,” Jace begged. “Please, Simon, it hurts so much.” 

“No,” Simon said. He busied himself. You don’t scratch a rash if you're distracted. He brought Jace a glass of water.  He made his bed. He cleaned his kitchen. Thank God the closet had cleaning supplies.

His hunger was static in his ears. Jace. Is. Right. There. His angel blood would soothe his hunger and then some.

He wiped down the fridge.  

He can hear Jace’s pounding heart, it hasn’t slowed in a while. 

He emptied and cleaned the cabinets with a bucket of water and cleaning chemicals. The solution cleansed the paneling. He wondered if there is something like it for the soul. Something you can make and clean the grime from your soul. 

Clean the hunger from his blood.

The counters. The sink. Under the sink.

He was sent back into his childhood home, laughing and cleaning while music blasted. It only lasted a second but when he came back to himself the scent of lemon is suffocating. 

(Good thing he doesn’t need to breathe) 

The lemon mixed with the smell of Jace’s blood. Clean and holy braided together. 

The table. The chairs. 

Cleaning solution bit into his hand.  

Simon works and works and Jace’s heart howls. A wolf to the moon. Simon dunked his rag. The walls. The ceiling. 

***

“Father!” Jace yelled from the living room. Simon was out of his desk, forgetting about the game on his screen, and out  in the living room in seconds. “Please don’t. Please don’t.” 

Jace wasn’t talking in his sleep, his eyes were awake, his feet on the ground. But his eyes were staring at nothing. “Jace.” 

Jace’s hand tangled in his hair and he pulled at the strands, his shoulders hunched. “Please don’t. Don’t. Don’t.

Simon took Jace’s hands, begging for him to see. But he didn’t. He watched things that weren’t there. Simon held onto his hands and pressed their bodies together. “I’m here Jace.” 

Jace struggled against him and it wasn’t sexy-play time, it was desperate in a brutal way real fighting was and Simon let go. 

“Jace.” 

***

Valentine pulled back from the hug and took control of him, like Lilith had. He made Jace pick up his dagger. 

“Please don’t make me,” he begged but he was a puppet and Valentine took his strings and forced him to walk. One step. Two steps. 

He raised the dagger, he wanted to plunge it into his own chest. Three steps. Four. It would hurt less than this. Because

_ Because. _

_ Because— _

Simon struggled against his bonds, something inside Jace died with him as his dagger cut into Simon’s chest and he bled out, slowly. 

Jace had to watch. Valentin forced his eyelids open and Jace heard screaming. 

It took too long for him to realize it was him.

***

Simon didn’t know what to do. He was pretty sure this went beyond regular hallucinations, Jace was moving like what he was seeing was real, his hand gripped an imaginary hilt. Tears fell off his checks and a desperate wail ripped from his throat. 

It had to be a side-effect of magic venom. Very real feeling hallucinations.

“Jace,” Simon yelled, God what his neighbors must think. “It’s okay, Jace.” 

***

Valentine let go and Jace’s legs gave out as if they were snow and melting. He hit the ground and Simon’s blood met him there. He pressed his forehead to the ground. Blood soaked him. 

Simon’s blood. 

His hands were dripping.

***

Simon dropped to the ground and gently lifted Jace’s head. Jace went with his hand. His eyes were glazed and Simon didn’t know what he was seeing. 

Simon had given him the venom causing it. 

Jace’s eyes looked into his with fear. Real fear. Simon knew who he was seeing. “Jace,” Simon whispered. 

Jace’s torso was pulled up by an invisible string. Simon moved closer and Jace closed his eyes. Simon wrapped his arms around Jace and pulled him against his still heart.

“Please,” Jace said. “Please.” Over and over again. A mantra laced with agony. 

Simon didn’t know what to do. Hold him tighter. Let him go. Both seemed impossible. 

“Wake up Jace,” Simon whispered in Jace’s ear. “Wake up.”

Jace strained against him but not as violent as before, as if the weight of chains rested in his bones. 

What was he seeing?

“Jace, it’s okay.” Simon tugged Jace gently from his chest and pressed their foreheads together. Jace kept his eyes closed. 

Simon kissed Jace’s forehead, Jace’s blood sang to him. 

Simon fought it tooth and nail and held Jace closer.  "Jace I'm here. I'm here. I'm here." 

"I think I loved him," Jace whispered. "And you were right I destroyed him. I destroyed him."

"Jace wake up," Simon demanded, trying not to think about what Jace just said. 

"Please let me go," Jace sobbed. "Please. Please."

Jace whispered more words and struggled against invisible chains his brain conjured and his nerves tricked into thinking they were real. 

He did this.

_ He did this.  _

He held Jace until the sob turned to the quiet tears and his breathing evened out. He slumped bonelessly against Simon and Simon picked him up. 

It wasn't like at the Seelie Court when Jace carried him with ease, Simon struggled, even with his strength, to not hit Jace against something. 

He gently laid Jace down on the bed. He pulled back the covers and then tucked Jace in. Jace slept like the dead. 

The static roared without Jace being in pain to ease it. Simon left and drank more blood and cleaned out his closet.  

He had taken out Jordan's bed and stuff and replaced with his music equipment and told himself it would become his music studio. 

He cleaned that room.

His nerves were frazzled. His hunger was an abyss. Each act a coin is thrown in to try and fill it. 

He cleaned. 

He put on his headphones and blasted music as if it could drown out the screaming inside him.

***

“Simon,” Jace said. 

Simon pulled off the headphones and let them rest on his neck, he dropped his rag in the bucket and turned around to see Jace leaned against the doorway. 

“Jace,” Simon said. 

“What happened?” Jace asked, not sounding like a badass demon hunter but more like a kid. “Did I do anything.” 

“No,” Simon shook his head. “You were freaking out and seeing things that weren’t there but you didn’t hurt anyone.” 

Jace nodded. “I think I was hallucinating.”

“Big time. I didn’t know it was a side effect.” 

“It’s uncommon, the shakes, the nausea all of it is expected but very vivid hallucinations and trances aren’t unheard of.”

“It was terrifying.” 

Jace stared at him. “It felt so real. All of it.” 

“What you were saying…” Simon shook his head. “What did you see?” 

“Valentine was back, or at least that’s what I saw and he—it was like Lilith—he control over me. Over every muscle.” 

It was probably Jace’s brain recycling the feelings Jace experienced when he was being controlled. It made a kind of sense. 

“You said some crazy stuff, this guy you're in love with, will you ever make a move.”

The guy he thought he killed had to be the same guy he talked about at the bar what feels like a lifetime ago when he talked about someone he could never have. It made sense. Simon had almost forgotten about him.

“What.” 

“You said you think you love him and that you destroyed him,” Simon shrugged and acted like it was no big deal. “Which is something Valentine told you and he’s never right.”

“There is no other guy, Simon,” Jace whispered. 

When Simon looked up Jace’s face was clouded with intensity. _ It’s the venom talking.  _

“What?” 

“It was you the whole time.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All translations are really rough and I’m sorry if you know Latin for butchering the language 
> 
> Tua—Yours
> 
> Tuus Sum—I’m yours.
> 
>  Sum tua usque in sempiternum—I am yours forever 
> 
> Amans—-lover/sweetheart/one who is affectionate or fond (pronounced a-mas not a man’s)
> 
> Sacris. Sol et stellae meum—Sacred. My sun and stars.
> 
> Illuminatio mea—my light 
> 
> Praeberi fari meum-my lighthouse/ light in the darkness
> 
> Nolite ire—Don’t go 
> 
> Ne derelinquas me—Don’t leave me, please
> 
> Noli me conteram vobis—Don’t let me break you 
> 
>  Non possum accipere, amans—I can’t take it, lover/sweetheart/one who is affectionate or fond
> 
> thank you guys so much for all the comments and kudos, all the support means the world to me


	6. There are no strings on me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here it is guys, the final chapter. this whole fic is way longer than I originally planned and this chapter is no exception. I hope I gave this a good ending so enjoy. 
> 
> I am planning on going back through the whole fic and fixing some grammatical errors that I missed before.

_“It was you the whole time.”_

Jace didn’t meet his eyes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” Jace stumbled over his words. “I didn’t mean...I never wanted to complicate things. Well, complicate things further.” 

“Jace,” Simon started, he had no idea where he was going with this. “We still need to figure out a lot of things.”

They still haven’t talked about the fight. Oh, the fight. _I hoped you would say something else._ A thousand moments suddenly made sense. Jace going with him to the Seelie Court, giving Simon his blood regardless of what it may do to him because it would save his life. All the tiny moments of tenderness and care, holding Simon after his nightmares, being there when Simon needs him.  The close connection before the blood bond was forged.

Opening up to Simon about his past. 

Jace turned away and Simon couldn’t take it. Wouldn’t take it.  “Stop,” Simon whispered and Jace did. “I didn’t say no.” 

Jace turned back to him, slowly, like if he moved too fast he could shatter the moment as easily glass. Maybe it would. 

“I don’t want to hurt you, Simon,” Jace said and a few more pieces fell into place. The person he thought Valentine made him kill was Simon. “You don’t owe me anything.” 

“I know that,” Simon pushed down his hunger but it clawed at him, scraping up and down his restraint—a cord pulled tautly and starting to fray. 

“Simon.”

“Jace.” Simon crept forward, Jace’s blood called for him. Simon ignored it with all he had. “We can figure this out.” 

Jace let out a harsh breath. “We can?” Jace asked and once again Simon was reminded that they were both so young. He was still a teenager and Jace not much older.

Simon held out his hand. Jace stared at it like he couldn’t believe it, but accepted it, his calloused, scared, and runed hand clasped Simon’s tightly. 

“How long?” Simon asked. He needed to know how long he’d been blind. How could he not have seen when Jace was showing in every way without words how much he cared? 

“Does it matter?” 

“It does to me.” 

“The first time I felt something for was when you took my seraph-blade and held it to my neck. I knew you had this fight in you. Then it was a million different moments. You’re good, Simon, genuinely good,” Jace shook his head, like he couldn’t believe it. “They say Shadowhunters fall fast and hard and I guess it’s true.”

Simon tried to ignore the implications of his last statement. That Jace loves him. Already. Simon is falling but Jace is already there. 

The alleyway. The hazy moment he pushed down. _I’ve always been yours, Simon._

Simon closed his eyes. It was so much. How had all of this started with a promise of no strings? “You like me with sharp objects,” Simon said. “Does that turn you on?” 

“A little,” Jace smiled but it had a twinge of sadness. “What do we do now, amans.”

“Can you tell me what _amans_ means?” 

Jace hesitated for a moment. “It means lover or one who is affectionate.”

“I knew I was something nice.”

“It all was.” 

***

They’re not done yet.

Simon cooked Jace breakfast, or well put frozen waffles in the toaster and covered them in Nutella. 

Jace ate it without complaint. 

“Why do you have food?” 

“For situations like this,” Simon answered. In case Jace ever stayed for breakfast or anyone really. 

When Jace finished he sat for several minutes before he got up from the couch and threw up his guts in the sink. Simon was there in a second. 

He held back Jace’s hair and smoothed the strands in what he hoped was a soothing manner. They stayed there for a few breaths, Simon breathed to remind Jace he had too. 

“Simon,” Jace whispered, his breath smelled of vomit. So, Simon kissed his cheek. “Simon,” Jace repeated. “I really want to kiss you right now.” 

“Brush your teeth.” 

Simon drank more blood. For his mom. For Jace, because if he bit Jace he would hurt him. 

For his mom.  

For Jace.

For himself.  

Over and over again, he repeated this in his mind. 

Jace came out of his bathroom (he had a spare toothbrush) with his mouth cleaned. They inched towards each other. They weren’t over this yet but they were nearing the end. Simon could feel it.

(They had to be) 

Jace cradled his jaw, no lies between them. “What are we doing?” Jace asked. 

Simon, as an answer, kissed him. It was soft and chaste and all Simon could manage right now, all either of them could manage in such a fragile state. 

Could they have this without blood between them? 

“What you do to me,” Jace whispered as they pulled away. Simon could see it, see how much Jace wants this, wants _him,_ in every line of his body. 

***

Simon stood in his doorway as Jace drew locking runes on his door and windows and checked the physical locks. 

Jace checked his work once. Twice. 

“Jace,” Simon said as he entered the third check. “We’re safe.”

Maybe it was a side-effect of the detox but Jace was frantic. “Are we?” 

Simon can’t take it anymore. He can’t just watch anymore. “We’re safe,” Simon stepped forward and Jace stared at him with wide, panicked eyes. “We’re safe.” 

“Locking runes can’t keep out Lilith.” 

What was Simon to do, lie and say they were truly safe? “Can I touch you?” 

Jace didn’t answer. “Did I lock the door?” 

Simon nodded. 

“I don’t remember.” 

“We can check it,” Simon said and Jace offered Simon his palm and Simon took it. They crossed the living room and checked the door. The lock was in place and a rune was sprawled out on the door. 

“The windows?” Jace asked.

They checked every window together. Lock and rune. Simon still craved Jace’s blood but he fought his hunger. He was so used to denying himself it was second nature. And Jace needed him. 

“We’re not safe,” Jace repeated and he looked so tired. 

Simon raised their joined hands and kissed Jace’s hand. “I’m here.” 

Right now Simon was just a normal vampire. He had no Mark of Cain, no real fighting experience but he was here for Jace. 

Maybe that was all Jace really needed. 

Simon sat down on his couch and Jace did too, his arms wrapped around Simon. Simon adjusted himself so he was sitting in Jace’s lap. They were so close. Close enough Simon’s teeth could— 

No. 

No. 

For his mom. 

For Jace.

For himself. 

Simon had just had some blood he was full. He was

—did his hunger have a bottom or was it just a void that could only be filled by the blood of angels— 

full.

Jace’s hands settled against his hips and Simon put his on Jace’s shoulders. “We’re safe,” Simon repeated. “I’m here.” 

Jace’s hands slid under Simon’s shirt, his hands warm against Simon’s cool skin. “Am I losing my mind?”

“No,” Simon pressed their foreheads together. 

“Please just one more bite,” Jace begged and he threw his head back. “I’m losing my mind.”

Simon wanted to say it's trauma and PTSD, not the magic venom but Jace wouldn’t listen. “You don’t feel safe,” Simon pointed out. “That’s all.” 

“We’re not safe,” Jace insisted and he was right. The things that haunted them could get past locked doors and windows. 

“I’m here,” Simon wiggled out of Jace’s grip and Jace let him go like he was expecting this. Simon just took Jace’s hand and led him to the bedroom.

They sat down. Simon settled behind Jace and he pulled Jace’s back snug against his chest. “I’m here,” Simon said. 

“Simon,” Jace threw his head back. “Please.” 

Simon held him tightly and said nothing. There was nothing to say. 

Jace pushed against him, as if he wanted them to melt together into nothingness. Simon held onto his control with metaphorical ropes. 

Locks and runes can be broken through. The wood of the door and the brick of the walls can all be broken. The foundation of the building can shake and shatter. The tectonic plates under the crust of the earth can move and tremble. 

 Simon closed his eyes and held Jace tightly.  

***

Simon was in a crucible. 

An eternal one. 

The internal struggle between hunger and morals. 

Simon had to get stronger but it was so hard.

He was Atlas holding up the sky for eternity.

He didn’t tell Jace about how hard it was for him to fight the draw of his blood. When Jace needed him it made it _easier_ but still not _easy_.

But Jace noticed.

_“I can go.”_

How can Jace be the thing pulling him apart and holding him together at the same time? 

_“No.”_

“You need a break from the pull of my blood,” Jace said. They’d been fighting this together for two days now. Together. Getting used to this new life. “It’s fine.” 

Go. Stay. Go. Stay. Which will hurt less? 

“Stay,” Simon whispered and he curled up on his couch. He closed his eyes and he wanted to sleep forever. Just close his eyes and fade away. 

“Are you sure?” 

No. Yes. No. Yes. 

“Do you want to stay?

“Yes.”

“Then stay.” 

Jace stayed and paced. 

Simon stayed and laid, his bones and blood were led in his body. “Why did you like it?” 

Jace’s froze, his heart pounded. “It made my thoughts stop.”

***

“Why did you like it,” Jace asked, sometime later. 

“It made my hunger stop. I felt alive.” Simon got himself off the couch. “It’s my nature.”

Simon showered in scaling hot water. 

It didn’t make him feel better.

Under the spray of the water, he knew what he had to do. 

He heard the beat of Jace’s heart outside the door and he took his phone from the sink and called Clary. 

She picked up on the third ring. 

“Simon,” she whisper-yelled. “Isabelle told me what happened.” 

“I’m sorry. I just...I couldn’t tell you.” 

“You could’ve, Simon. I wouldn’t’ve judged you. I still don’t.” 

Simon bowed his head and closed his eyes. “I know, but I still couldn’t.” 

“Why? I love you and nothing can come between that.”

“I’m sorry.” 

“You don’t have to go through this alone,” Clary said, her voice so fierce. “I am here for you. I can come back from Idris, Simon.” 

“I’m not alone,” Simon told his shoes and Jace’s heart was right outside the door and he had hearing runes. He had to be hearing this whole thing. “I’m with Jace.” 

“Jace?” He could hear her shaking her head. “Simon, he’s whose blood you’re addicted to.” 

“I need him here to get over it. I promised myself, alone in my apartment, I wouldn’t do it anymore but when I saw him I lost it. Now we can get over it together.” 

“That makes a kind-of-sense,” she sighed. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m drinking a lot of blood but not Jace’s. And cleaning a lot.” 

“Cleaning?”

“Doing things helps keep me distracted. There isn’t much of a difference between my hunger for Jace and my hunger for blood all the time.”

“Simon, I’m so sorry.”

“I’m getting to okay, Clary,” Simon insisted. “I have Jace.” 

“That tone makes it sounds like its more than a ‘ _we’re just friends with benefits’_ deal _._ It’s definitely a dreamy tone.”

Simon laughed. “Turns out Jace had a thing for me the whole time. Fucking crazy right, I feel like I am in like an edgy Halmark movie.” 

“What is your life?”

“I know, I mean I kind of had a thing for him too but I thought there was another guy but I was the guy.” 

“Was the sex that good?”

“It wasn’t the sex.” 

“Was that a no?” 

“Clary he was your boyfriend!” 

“We never got that far.” 

Simon laughed. God, this felt so good. “The sex was good but it was the other stuff.”

“Holy shit, Simon you sound so in love.” 

Simon forgot about Jace right outside the door. “I am.”

“Take care of yourself,” Clary said. “The edgy vamp look doesn’t work with your style.” 

“Excuse you, I have that sexy vampire mogo.” 

“Jace certainly thinks so.” 

Simon laughed again. The weight on his chest eased and he took an unnecessary breath. “No one can resist the Edward Cullen lure.” 

Clary chuckled. “Alright, if you’re Edward Cullen does that make Jace, Bella Swan.”  

“Absolutely, he’s into some kinky-ass shit.” 

She laughed. “For real though, call me if you need me, Simon I mean it.” 

“You make it sound like a threat.” 

“It is.” 

“Bye, love you.” 

“Love you.” 

Simon hung up and opened the door, Jace didn’t try to hide he was listening. “Who is Bella Swan?” 

“Someone in love with a vampire,” Simon said and Jace smirked.

“Is she now? I thought she was into some kinky-ass-shit.” 

“One can be into both,” Simon took Jace’s hand. “You know I can go out of your sight, right. I’m safe in my bathroom,” Simon said gently.

 “I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be,” Simon patted his shoulder and moved past him. “I get it, Jace I really do. We just have to work on it. That’s all. We all have baggage.” 

Jace followed him down the hall. Most of his symptoms have gone away, the shaking hands remain with nausea but they’re almost on the other side of this. “You’re right.” 

“I usually am.” 

***

Simon knew the thing with not feeling safe was normal for people with trauma. It hurt that there was little he could do. 

The windows and doors had to be checked. Jace’s need for them to safe manifested in other ways too. 

He made sure he had knives stored around. He made sure Simon was within his sight. Maybe it was the hallucinations that caused this mixed with being outside the magic wards that he was used to. 

The trigger mattered but not as much as comforting Jace. 

Simon drank a glass of blood and wrapped his arms around Jace. “I’m here,” he said. The mantra he offered Jace as comfort. He was here. He would be here.

Jace ran a hand through his hair. “Are you?” 

“Yes,” Simon pressed himself against Jace. “I’m here.” Jace’s blood always wanted him but Simon wouldn’t let it win. He couldn’t. Not when Jace was suffering.

“Simon,” Jace clutched him back. “Simon.” 

“It’s me. I’m here. I promise.” 

***

On day four, they go to group therapy. 

It only took some convincing.

_‘One meeting, Jace, and if you don’t like then don’t go again.”_

_‘I’ll be safe okay, you’ll be there.”_

Simon listened to others and when it came around to his turn he felt he had to share. 

“I, um, I feel like I have this hole inside me,” Simon gestured to himself and all the others watched him with gentle eyes. He remembered that he, to them, was just an eighteen-year-old kid. This was the mundane world where kids had some innocence. “My life was flipped upside down, my friend was going through some things and I got caught up with the wrong people.

“The truth is I felt like I had this hole inside me longer than I had been using, but when I did use it felt full. It was like...I finally could breathe. My mind stopped and there was just the high,” Simon forced himself not to tear up, how would he explain blood tears? “But I’m working through it, though. I have some really special people in my life and they held set me straight. Since I have a boyfriend there's a joke in there.” 

The people in this group chuckled. Jace smiled a bit but watched Simon with what Clary would describe as a dreamy look. 

Jace doesn’t say anything but he listened to everyone. 

***

 Jace ate while Simon drank as the kitchen table. 

“It's okay that you didn’t say anything,” Simon said. 

Jace just nodded, his expression vacant. 

Simon reached for Jace and smoothed his hand over Jace's hair. “What’s going on in your head?” 

Jace closed his eyes and leaned into the touch. “Nothing you’d like.”

“But I’d like to hear it anyway.” 

I was thinking about my mother,” Jace started, his voice hoarse. “She struggled for so long, so quietly. She would understand, just wanting all the pain to stop. But what would Valentine think, what would he say to me if he saw me so weak?” Jace’s voice almost cracked and he bowed his head. “So helpless.” 

“You’ve been in pain for so long, Jace, in one way or another,” Simon titled Jace’s jaw up. “You’ve suffered enough and you’re not weak, you’re not helpless. You’re mine and I’m yours and I need you.” 

Jace nodded and Simon wished that when someone like Valentine dies all his effects would die with him. Valentine's shadow will haunt Jace for his whole life. But, God, he needed Jace to bring him out of the darkness. To make him feel like he deserves love and attention after all that’s happened. 

“I think I need to go back to the Institute, my shakes are gone and other than feeling fragile I’m good.” 

“If you’re ready,” is all that Simon can say.  He won’t hold Jace back. 

“But I don’t want to leave you here, something could happen.” 

Simon smiled. “The Seelie Queen won’t let anything happen to me.” 

“You don’t know that.” 

“She wants to protect her investment, I’ll be fine and besides you can teach me how to handle myself.” 

“Last time that didn’t go well.” 

“Well this is now and both of us have this under control.” 

“If something comes in here, run, Simon,” Jace’s eyes held something desperate. “Run. Promise me.” 

“I hate fighting so I’m definitely going to run and call my boyfriend.” 

“Are we...” Jace trailed off. “Are we boyfriends.” 

“We don’t need labels, we care about each other, but I don’t mind that particular label.” 

Jace nodded. 

Later that evening, Jace left. 

He got a call an hour later;

 “Hi, Jace.” 

“Simon,” Jace said. “Are you okay?” 

“Yes, all the windows have your runes on them and so does the door.” 

“I not back on active duty but I’m helping out.” 

“That's cool, man.” 

“Everyones looking at me weirdly, they all know I’ve been…” 

“Giving it up for a vampire,” Simon suggested. “Sorry.” 

“It’s fine, it’s just I could use some venom right now, to calm my mind.” 

“You know I can’t.” 

“I know. I’m just trying to be open, it’s a really bad craving and these past few days you help...you help calm me, like the venom but different.” 

Simon smiled at his shoes. “You help be too when I get a craving, you just being with me helps remind me I’m still kind-of a person.” 

Jace drew in a sharp breath. “You are a person, amans. You’re my person.” 

“I didn’t think you be this sweet,” Simon mused. 

Jace said nothing for a while. “I’m sorry?” 

“It’s a good—” a  knock on the locked door interrupted Simon. “Thing. Take care of yourself, Jace, call if you need me. I just, I have to go.”

“Be safe, Simon.”

Simon set his phone on the coffee table and took a stele in one hand and a seraph knife in the other—it didn’t light up but it sure as Hell could do some damage—and unlocked the door with the knife behind his back. 

Maryse Lightwood stood there, straight-backed, chin up, with a stone face, the smell of angel blood hit Simon—not as strong as Jace’s. “Simon Lewis.” 

“Mrs. Lighwood,” Simon stepped back to welcome her. “Come in.” 

“Thank you,” she stepped in and looked around his apartment. She noticed the knife behind his back and just nodded as he set it down. 

“What can I help you with?” Simon gestured to his couch and sat down himself. “How did you get my address?” 

“It was in the Institute's database and I figured since I was in town I might as well pay you a visit.”

Simon nodded. “Why are you in New York, not that’s it’s not nice to see you, it’s just that it— this—is really unexpected. Unexpected is sometimes good though.” 

Maryse watched him with an odd expression, so familiar because he’s seen it on Alec and Izzy’s faces. _Exasperated amusement_

“I talked to Alexander today,” Maryse said, sparing Simon from filling the silence with his babbling. “He says that Jace has been through a lot.” 

Simon just nodded. “He has, we all have a lot of stuff to work through.” 

“Jace has been trying to shut Alec out through their bond but Alec can feel strong emotions and no matter how hard Jace has tried he can’t shut out his love for you.”

“And you don’t approve,” Simon guessed, he remembered Alec’s failed wedding and how Maryse had looked so disgusted at Alec and Magnus. “Shocking.”

“No. No, it’s not _that_ ,” Maryse insisted. “It not that you’re a man, well a boy. It’s that you’re the vampire whose venom Jace is addicted to,” she sighed and then she didn’t look like a bad-ass scary Shadowhunter. She looked like a mother. “I just want what’s best for my kids. I want them to be _okay.”_

Simon nodded. “If he really wants venom he can get it from other Vampires, there are bleeder dens all around New York.” 

“You’re also a Downworlder, it won’t be easy for Jace, you’ve seen how much backlash Alec’s gotten for his relationship.” 

“Just because it’s hard doesn’t mean it’s not worth it.

Maryse met his eyes. “The Shadow-World is unlike yours. There are different rules.” 

“Rules on who can love who, and I’m not even sure if we’re far enough in our relationship to call it love but it doesn’t matter. I care about Jace and he cares about me, we’re both consenting adults and that’s what matters.” 

‘“I had to raise my kids to live in this terrible world. I had to raise them to be tough if wanted them to survive until their twentieth birthday. I had to raise them to be unyielding if I wanted them to live past twenty-five, which they still might not. I have to pray that they might beat all the odds and live to thirty.” 

 Simon broke the stare. He’s always thought about what Shadowhunter parents tell their kids. How do you tell a child that they might die? How do you raise children to fight for their entire lives?

“I want Jace to be _okay_ too,” Simon said quietly. “And if he feels that way with me then he does and if he doesn’t then,” Simon shrugged. “He doesn’t.” 

“Jace is a very complex person.” 

“Is that supposed to scare me?” Simon asked. “He’s human, Mrs. Lightwood. He’s still human. He’s messy and complicated and I already know. I know what I’m getting myself into. I don’t care if we last a year or an hour, he makes me feel alive. You have no idea what that’s like to not feel alive, to not be alive.” 

Maryse Lightwood closed her eyes as if it brought her pain. “I will not tell Jace who to love, it won’t work. I was young once.” 

“Then why are you here.” 

“To meet you.” 

Simon nodded and he felt like a twisted version of a conversation that should be happening at the dining table before prom. “Well, here I am.” 

“I want to thank you for your help against Lilith.” 

“Your welcome, but all I really did was stand there.” 

Maryse nodded and she was nothing like Simon’s mom, but that slight head tilt as she nodded was the same as his mom’s. God, he missed his mom so much. 

“I still thank you for saving my children,” Maryse stood up and smiled at him. “If you ever have kids—adopted or whatever—you’ll understand me a bit more.” 

Simon stood up too because it’s what you do when you have company. “We’ll see about that, Mrs. Lightwood.”

“I look forward to seeing you again and the reason I was in New York was to personally tell my children I got a divorce from Robert, so it’s Trueblood now.” 

Simon smiled but it felt far too fake. “That’s so great, I’m happy for you.” 

“Thank you,” with that she left. 

God, he needed some blood.

***

A knock came from the door and Simon bared his fangs and took a dagger in his hand. “Simon,” Jace’s voice called from the door. 

Simon unlocked the door and drew the runes. “Jace,” he said dumbly. “You’re late.” 

“It happens,” Jace gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “I threw myself back into training and…” his eyes scanned Simon.“You should be asleep.” 

It was late, well early. “I couldn’t sleep,” Simon pulled Jace into a hug, he just held Jace against him. And Jace relaxed under his hands. 

“I missed you,” Jace murmured against his neck. “I missed you so much.” 

“Call me,” Simon felt Jace kiss his neck. “Call me if you need to just hear my voice.” 

“I didn’t want to bother you again.”  

Simon shoved Jace against the closed door because he _needed Jace to listen._ “Call me, Jace, for nothing and everything.”

Jace’s eyes devoured him as if nothing but bare skin was between them. “My hand shook today, I thought I got through everything.” 

Simon pressed their bodies together, chest to hip and he needed this so much. To feel Jace against him. To feel his heart. Hear his heart and the blood in his veins. “Time heals all wounds.” 

“Maryse visited today she and Alec invited me—us—to dinner at Magnus’ place. Tomorrow night—well  tonight.” 

Jace’s hand cupped Simon’s jaw, such tenderness in his touch Simon could only close his eyes and leaned into the touch. 

“She visited me too, it was really weird she didn’t forbid us from seeing each other just warned me things could go wrong,” Simon swallowed the lump in his throat. “Really wrong.” 

“I can’t promise anything, Simon,” Jace whispered, so softly it was almost a lullaby. “I can’t promise that I’ll live past every night when I’m put back on active duty.” 

Simon ducked his head down so that he could hear Jace’s heart. The steady thump of it so loud Simon felt like he could hide in it. “Promise me anyway.” 

“I won’t lie to you,” Jace’s arms encircled him. “I won’t say I will come home every night.” 

“Promise me you’ll try,” Simon gripped Jace’s gear. Simon was immortal, he was going to lose Jace someday. Maryse had reminded him of everything he’d forced himself to forget to go on. “Promise me.” 

“I promise you I’ll try to come back to you every night,” Jace vowed, his hands slid up and down Simon’s sides. “I promise you.” 

“I just got you,” Simon tilted his head up to look Jace in the eye. “I will not lose you, Jace Herondale.” 

“I want to promise you so many things,” Jace dipped his head down and their lips were close enough to kiss but Jace wasn’t done yet. “I want to promise you whatever you want...the moon and the stars..anything.” 

“I don’t want the moon and the stars.” Simon wanted Jace. God, they were doing this all wrong. “What if I want you?” 

Jace leaned in and stole the barest of kisses from Simon’s lips. “Then I’m yours to take.” 

Simon went in for a kiss but his fangs popped out and he staggered back, a hand over his mouth and his body was so cold. 

Jace didn’t move. “It’s okay, Simon.” 

How would they do this? “It’s not.” 

So Jace stuck with the truth. “I’m here.”

Simon turned his back on Jace, it hurt. It hurt. When would it stop hurting? Jace’s fingers brushed his shoulder and Simon spun around and his hand grasped Jace’s wrist. 

Jace’s blood poured through his veins. His heart pounded. Only thin skin stood between Simon’s teeth and Jace’s molten gold blood. This is why they sweated it out together but it didn’t make it easier. 

It didn’t make Simon able to do anything but stare at Jace’s wrist with dark fascination in his eyes. Jace’s blood would take the cold feeling in him and warm it. Warm it until it overloads and explodes and only silence is left. 

“Simon,” Jace pulled against Simon’s grip but Simon didn’t know how to let go. He felt the tendons in his hand turn to wood than to glass. If he moved he would break. “Let me go.”

The world snapped back into focus and Simon let got. It took all the strength but he pushed Jace away and left the living room with his blood filled thermos. He closed his bedroom door and locked it. 

He slid down the door with his thermos clutched to his chest. Blood tears stained his face. Jace’s footsteps were light but not light enough as he locked everything and then checked it all. 

_Safe._ He was safe.

The monster inside Simon laughed because nothing could be as dangerous as Simon alone in the dark with only his thoughts. 

***

Simon's heart shattered as he heard Jace stood in front of his door. He heard Jace mirror his position. He didn’t say anything but he was there. 

***

Simon went without Jace to a group therapy session.

“I um I had been doing okay but last night I almost broke it just everything got so much. The world was too much, too loud, too cold and I wanted it all to stop,” Simon closed his eyes and powered through. “I wanted it to be easy to just live without all that pain but it won’t go away, not truly, ever.”

Simon wiped the blood from his eyes before anyone could see it. “My boyfriend and I used together and it’s not that I don’t care for him without it between us it just that it made things easy. He’s in the military and it’s only a matter of time before he goes on another tour and I don’t know if I can deal with that fear of him maybe-dying without anything. It would make the pain stop and I don’t know how to do that anymore.” 

***

Simon put on his nicest clothing and texted Jace he was on his way. He and Alec went to Magnus’ from the Institute together and Simon said he’s met them there.  

When he got there the smell of tomato sauce hit him. Simon knocked on the door it was the one and only Maryse Lightwood who created him. Her (ex?) husband was there too and so was Isabelle. 

Shit. He could use a meeting. 

So he shook to Lightwood parent's hands, hugged Isabelle and sunk into the kitchen with Magnus. “This was a terrible idea. I’m a vampire.” 

“I have blood in the fridge, Simon,” Magnus said and he leaned against the counter with far more grace and style than Simon could ever manage. 

“That won’t be awkward at all,” Simon muttered and on habit stirred the sauce. “Do you know how to cook?” 

“You pick things up when you live for a few centuries,” something in Magnus’ eyes was melancholy. “So why are you hiding in here.” 

“The whole Lightwood family is out there and I’m an outsider, a downworlder who got Jace addicted to vampire venom.” 

“And I’m the centuries-old former warlock who crashed a Shadowhunter wedding and have long-standing feud with the Lightwood family since I fought against them at the Uprising. Get in line.” 

Simon nodded at the weird pep-talk. Alec popped his head in and Simon thanked whoever was listening that Magnus didn’t have an open concept apartment like they always want on HGTV. 

Alec glared at him a bit but joined his boyfriend leaning against the counter. “Hiding isn’t appreciated in my family.”

“Didn’t your parents split?” Simon blurted.

“Yes, but they both want to check with us and meet our partners apparently.” 

“Cool, cool, um any advice for not dying.” 

“Don’t tell them how your relationship with Jace really started with.”

“With me stealing Jace’s seraph blade and threatening to cut his throat open because that’s when this whole thing kind of started, if you’re looking at it in the more abstract sense because that’s why we..” 

“I’m sorry what?” Magnus asked and Alec looked like he wanted to die. “You threatened Jace with a seraph blade.” 

“Yeah.” 

“I just meant the whole one night stand thing,” Alec shook his head and left the kitchen. 

Magnus just laughed. 

“What’s so funny.” 

“Nothing it’s just, of course, Jace would get turned on when threatened—it’s such a Herondale thing to do.” 

***

Dinner was served for all but Simon. 

Robert Lightwood stared Simon down.

“Isn’t this the part of this meal where you ask me about my intentions with your son,” Simon asked and took a sip of his blood, trying not to feel like an outsider. “Or is that at desert.”

“I don’t need to ask you what your intentions are, I already know,” Robert Lightwood answered smoothly. “You want blood and sex and it’s in your nature to trick Jace into thinking he’s in love with you.” 

Simon imagined what Clary would do here but before he opened his mouth Jace beat him to it. 

“You’re full of shit,” Jace said to his psedo-father but Simon put a hand on Jace’s thigh and silently begged Jace to back down. 

This was his fight. 

“You’re point, Mr. Lightwood?” Simon asked. “Oh wait no let me guess it’s that you don’t approve. Well, I have some facts for you, the only reason me and Jace had any problem with addiction is because he saved my life and the sex started before that.”  

Alec face-palmed and Magnus and Isabelle exchanged a glance. 

“Is the fact that my son is having pre-marital sex supposed to make me feel better?” 

“I think what Simon is saying is his own unique way,” Magnus cut in. “Is that they’re both consenting adults and there is no manipulation involved.” 

“So you’re denying biology,” Robert said not paying any attention to his plate. “Jace’s blood makes Simon want to feed and the venom tricks Jace into thinking he wants to be fed on.” 

“I think we know our own feelings beyond the venom considering that we’re both clean of each other's blood or venom.” 

“The effects last long after a bite.”

“Can you just let it go, Robert,” Maryse said. “You think they’ll listen when we say stop. You think Alec lies when he says he felt this starting before blood was between them.” 

“I can’t let this go, Maryse, you may be content to let Jace fall into this sickness but I won’t.” 

Jace flinched slightly at the word sickness. Anger rose deep in Simon and he saw Magnus’ eyes sharpen. Magnus didn’t have his magic but he still managed to have the air of power in the lines of his body. 

“Are you talking about him being bi or with a vampire, because with a dick like you it’s hard to tell,”  Simon snapped. “Because I think that if I were a girl then you’d be far more understanding.” 

Robert out of habit looked to his wife for support but found none. “You have no idea what you’re talking about, boy.” 

“Oh really, because it seems like I do,” Simon forced himself to keep his voice even and calm. “The only reason you acted like you approved of Magnus and Alec’s relationship was because it made you feel better for cheating on your wife since you weren’t the only one who would,” Simon raised his fingers and made air quotes, “have their ‘wrong’  feelings cloud their judgement. Or in short, it was a justification for you being a bastard.”

Robert pushed his chair and stood up slowly, he braced his hands on the table and leaned forward. “You are a guest at this dinner, you will show me some respect.” 

Magnus copied Robert at the head of the table. “Actually you all are guests at my house so sit down Robert or I will ask you to leave.” 

Robert ignored him and his focus shifted to Jace. “I should have known that even though pure angelic blood runs in your veins you are still sick. Valentine may not be your real father but he put his sickness is in you all the same. Only a son of Valentine would whore himself out to a vampire.” 

At that Simon jumped to his feet and so did Jace but Robert wasn’t finished just yet. “I—”

“Robert, get out of my apartment or I will remove you myself,” Magnus interrupted in a scary calm voice that was far worse than any yelling.

Robert walked around the table and stepped into Simon’s personal space, Simon took Jace’s wrist and held him back. “You will never be apart of this family, no more than an ant will become a lion. It’s against nature for a vampire to want any more than sex and blood,” he stepped back and met Magnus’ eyes. “You may not have your magic, Bane, but make no mistake, you aren’t a Shadowhunter and while I was fine to let Alec get this out of his system while he is young if you really care about Alec and if you,” he turned his eyes back to Simon, “really care for Jace then you will know a relationship with a downworlder will end in ruin and back out soon.”

Simon grew cold. His inner monster sharpened its claws and hummed a song. It was low and deep, rage and pain and _do something._ He was the monster and the monster was him. 

Together they curled their fist. 

Together they raised their arm and punched Robert in his jaw with all the strength they had. 

Together they felt no pain in their hand. 

Together they watched Magnus trail Robert as he left. The song shattered like glass as Jace’s hand enclosed around his shoulder and spun him around. Jace smirked and Simon didn’t feel human at all not after how numb he felt. 

But Jace held him in a hug anyway. “He’s wrong,” Jace whispered in his ear. “He wrong. He’s wrong. He’s wrong.” 

Simon closed his eyes. He breathed because it’s what humans do. 

Monsters don’t breathe. 

He pulled back out of Jace’s arms and Maryse was standing there with a proud smile on her face she took Simon in her arms. A mother’s hug. 

“I was wrong, you’re strong enough to handle a relationship with my son,” Maryse said in his ear. “I have wanted to do that for years.” 

Simon laughed and stepped back as the hug ended. “I should have gone for the nose.” 

Magnus snorted. 

Isabelle’s lips quirked up. “That went well.” 

***

Simon looked around at the other people in the support group. “I, um, I always thought that while I was pain that I wanted to feel nothing. That nothing was good. Nothing would mean no pain but feeling nothing is far worse than anything. I stopped feeling last night, truly stopped feeling. Maybe it’s a me thing and others can feel some comfort in feeling nothing but I just can’t bear it. I can’t deal with feeling cold and numb and I would rather feel pain because at least when I’m in pain I know I’m alive.” 

Simon wrung his hands and he was speaking to the floor when he said, “Feeling nothing makes me feel like I’m dead, that’s why I used because I felt alive. I just want to feel something every moment of every day. I want to feel pain and joy and just something to remind me I’m alive because for a while there when I was using daily I was practically dead, I was numb, it ruled my life. I’ve been trying not to let it anymore.” 

***

Simon’s hands knew Jace. They knew how to caress and map out every line and curve. But they shook as he touched Jace.  A week without Jace’s blood but things could go very wrong. 

“It’s okay,” Jace said as they backed up into the bedroom, his hands were warm around Simon’s waist. “We’re okay.” 

Everything between them felt like a spider-web of spun glass strings. Fragile. So fragile and anything could shatter it. 

Simon felt stupid standing here, an agonizing frozen stance while his mind fought against itself. “What if I lose control?” It’s so stupid and there is a lump in Simon’s throat. So stupid and something out of a bad movie script but his fear made anchors in his feet, in his cells and he can’t move because _what if he hurts Jace._

Jace’s eyes looked like they were staring at something beautiful, someone who hung the stars. “You won’t,” there was nothing in a bad movie like how Jace was looking at him, how his voice was so sure. “I trust you. He’s wrong.”

Robert or Valentine? 

 Two men Simon felt so much rage for but that melted away because Jace is here.  

Simon hated himself for a second because this was supposed to be romantic and sexy and he was falling apart. 

Simon cradled Jace’s face, his hands shook still but he traced Jace’s parted lips. “We’re doing this all wrong,” Simon’s throat felt tight but something in him was giving away to just live in this moment. To be a teenager fooling around with his boyfriend. “We haven’t even been on a date.” 

“I’ll take you on one,” Jace promised. “Let me take you on a date.” 

Simon nodded and gave into his desire; their lips met messy and off-center but with so much _want_ it almost didn’t matter. 

Jace pulled Simon by his shirt and Simon stumbled and fell on top of Jace as they landed on the bed. “Where are you going to take me? Simon asked as he helped Jace remove his clothing. “On the date.” 

Jace moaned as Simon sucked the rune on his neck. “I don’t know.” 

“I’m expecting to be dazzled,” Simon’s fangs popped and he jolted back as if Jace’s skin burned—he wished so badly it would burn him, it would make it so much easier to pull back. 

Jace’s hands slid up his back. “We knew this was going to happen.” 

It didn’t make it easier to bear as he pressed his lips together and nuzzled Jace’s neck. He missed this, this closeness. The beating of Jace’s heart. The warmth of his skin. 

Simon’s nose marked Jace’s scent, the smell of the blood and sweat. Simon wanted to drag his teeth over Jace’s skin but he wouldn’t, it would be testing his control too much. 

“I want to bite you,” Simon pulled back to face Jace, he exposed his teeth and Jace shuddered. “But I won’t.” 

Jace moaned and pressed his hips against Simon’s. “Simon,” Jace gasped and threw his head back. Simon hated it. Hated how Jace always felt the need to hide. 

Simon ran his nails over Jace’s exposed skin, over his chest and collar-bones. “Jace,” Simon dug his nails into Jace as he ranked them over his abs. Jace’s head lifted up from the pillow. Their eyes met and this time there was no illusions of no strings. This meant something. 

(It always had) 

Simon grounded himself and took off his shirt, helped Jace out of his pants. Simon ran a finger over Jace’s bare leg, the curve of muscle and rigid bone. Jace’s hand drew him closer and closer and their lips didn’t touch—not with the fangs out in Simon’s mouth but their faces drew in close together. 

Simon blindly fumbled to take off his pants because he wouldn’t look away from Jace. Next, his underwear and now both of them were naked but Jace didn’t take his eyes off Simon’s face. 

They were anchors, holding Simon in this moment. They were here and Simon felt warmth explode in his chest. His heart was a star and it exploded, a supernova of desire and love. 

Simon forced his lips to remain shut, he imagined a threat of gold sewing them shut, a thread strong as steel. Jace kissed his cheek and ground their hips together. 

Sparks showered them and they groaned in harmony. Simon looked away from Jace’s eyes to get the lube. He covered his fingers and reached between Jace’s legs. Jace’s eyes didn’t leave him, even naked he had a predator's gaze. Feline eyes dipped in gold and amber. 

Jace’s lips parted in the way they always do when Simon first puts in a finger. Simon worked Jace open while feeling up and down Jace’s thigh. 

He felt exposed under Jace’s eyes, he felt like his skin was removed and every touch Jace bestowed him with, every noise, landed on exposed nerves. Jace must feel the same for each time Simon traced his thigh he shivered and shook. 

Simon wanted to kiss Jace so badly but he held back. He added another finger and slowly, far slower than Jace would like, opened Jace up. 

He added a third finger and watched Jace’s body tense, his hands curled in the sheets and his throat worked.

Simon removed his fingers and lined himself up, he gave Jace a moment before he slid deep inside Jace.

Jace brought a hand to his lips to stifle the cry he let out. Lightning licked up Simon’s body as he held himself there. He draped himself over Jace and Jace’s arms wrapped around him and they were in harmony as their hips rocked, slowly and rhythmically. 

“What you do to me,” Jace gasped out and looked away, his lungs worked to take deep breaths. 

“Look at me,” Simon ordered. He needed to see Jace’s face while they do this. He just needed too. “Look _what you do to me.”_

Jace looked, he lurched forward and kissed Simon’s throat. “You have no idea what I’m feeling right now,” Jace said against his throat. 

Simon’s hips snapped forward and his hands held onto Jace’s hips, so tightly Jace’s couldn’t move his anymore. “I have some idea,” Simon managed.

“Simon,” Jace breathed against his throat and continued to pepper kisses along his neck and jaw. He even nipped and scraped his teeth over Simon’s skin. 

Simon slammed Jace back against the bed, again and again. Their hips working in tandem and together they climbed up and up. It was all sweat-covered skin and breathy noises, it was bodies pressed so close together they could feel everything. It was the passion inside them, seeping out as they went higher and higher. 

All Simon could think about is beautiful Jace was. How full of life he was, lighting in a bottle. Life captured and brought down to Simon’s bed. The fire inside Jace was burning like the Sun in the sky. Simon’s light. Simon’s love. 

There was nothing dead or undead in how Jace moved, how he breathed, how his heart beat, how he talked. Nothing dead about Jace, even going through detox he was always so alive. His cells and body screaming, singing the song Simon’s never will. 

Jace withered under him, fully laid out and taking everything Simon gave him and begging for more. “What you do to me,” Jace repeated, kissing Simon’s jaw with his burning mouth. 

“What you do to me,” Simon echoed. 

Something deep and dark in him wanted to chain Jace down to his bed like a fallen angel and _use him_ and never let him go. To make him feel that hunger Simon always feels. But that wasn’t love, it wouldn’t make himself feel more alive feed off of Jace’s body like he would his blood. As if his skin held the secrets of life, as if the song of life could flow through his veins again after listening to Jace’s song for long enough. 

(But it would be to easy because if you show any tenderness you can have Jace. But Simon would never let anyone do that.)

“Simon,” Jace said and his lips moved against Simon’s skin, so tender and just with a tease of teeth. Begging Simon for more, begging Simon to ruin him. 

Simon’s fangs itched to be embedded in Jace’s skin, to suck all the blood from the veins until the void of his hunger would trouble him no more. Simon wired his jaw shut and clenched his jaw so tightly it almost hurt. 

What did hurt was the agonizing devotion in Jace’s lips as he kissed Simon’s cheek and jaw. Simon released the hold he had on his speed and started to thrust in earnest. He pulled Jace with him. Up and up and sky-high wasn’t high enough. 

They were stars swirling around each other, strung together by gravity. No. Jace was a star and Simon was a black hole. Jace burned and Simon ate that fire to trick his mind into thinking he was alive.

“Simon,” Jace cried out because Simon was hitting his prostate over and over again. Never slowing or stopping. His entire body tensed, higher and higher and the cosmic dance boiled down to just them. Tangled in sweet bliss and getting closer to finishing. Jace’s head hit the pillow and Simon was so close. 

His resolve broke and he stole a kiss from Jace’s lips, his fangs still out and his and Jace’s teeth clanked together but Simon didn’t care. His tongue dipped into Jace’s mouth and he tipped over the edge. 

He came deep inside Jace, with their lips pressed together and a moan falling from his mouth into Jace’s. Jace’s mouth was a mirror and reflected that note back down Simon’s throat. But his tongue didn’t go into Simon’s mouth. He pushed Simon back, their mouths separated and Jace pined Simon beneath him. 

Simon’s stomach was covered in Jace’s come, sticky but Simon was past caring. “I was thinking of investing in gag,” Jace panted, now straddling Simon. 

“I’m sorry,” Simon said, he ran his tongue over his fangs. 

Jace smirked and slowly eased off Simon’s cock with only a small wince. “I have an idea for our date.” 

***

“You do know that I am the only one in this relationship who can drive right?” 

Jace opened the door to Simon’s van for him. “Then you’ll drive.” 

“Where are we going?”

“We’re going to the,” Jace looked at his phone. “The, Jacob K. Javits Convention Center.” 

It was early October but it can’t be. “What’s there?” 

Jace smiled, he was in his gear, all his weapons strapped to him, but he looked nothing like a demon hunter and all like a bashful boyfriend. He handed Simon his phone. 

On it was  _tickets to Comic-Con._

Simon’s mouth fell open. “How...what...how?” 

Jace took his phone back and keeping that Sun-bright smile he said, “Magnus knows some people. When I said I had an idea it was too  google nerd things in New York because I know there is always some weird Mundane thing going on around this time of year and ask Magnus for a favor, although he says that seeing you punch Robert in the face was enough for payment.” 

Simon wrapped his arms around Jace. His amazing, incredible Jace. “Thank you. Thank you. It’s way too much for a first date and you don’t know about anything there.” 

“I don’t need too,” Jace said. “You’ll like it.”

Simon pulled back enough to kiss Jace right there on the sidewalk. “Oh my God, I’m going to Comic-Con, I couldn’t go for the last two years because we were busy and then sick and this year I hardly thought of it because of all the….” Simon cut himself off because he’d just said _oh my god._ “Oh my God.” 

Jace threw his head back and laughed and then ushered him into the van and assured Simon that there were blood filled thermoses in a cooler in the back.

Simon drove and he still couldn’t believe it. Jace’s hand found his knee and stayed there, rubbing circles occasionally. He was driving to Comic-Con with his boyfriend. Clary was right, what was his life? 

***

Simon didn’t have any of his nerd stuff since all of it was at home and probably thrown away or savored my his mourning mother, but he got new stuff to be signed. Apparently all Shadowhunters had bank accounts with a lot of money since it’s passed down through families and money is given to all active duty Shadowhunters for food and other things. 

(Through the stock market and government funding since of course the government knows about Shadowhunters so they have the money to reward the hunters)

Jace went with him to panels and stood with him in the lines, getting compliments on his “costume”

Jace pretended to dislike all the nerd stuff but Simon saw the glimmer in his eyes as he saw trailers and Simon explained the plots to some of his favorite anime. Any time something Lord of the Rings was seen Jace would get a little giddy since he felt in the know. 

Simon couldn’t stop watching Jace

(Jace couldn’t stop looking at Simon but he had to scan the area for any danger but it was hard when everything seemed to orbit around Simon how stood bubbling with life at the center.) 

When it was all done and they sat on a bench outside, bags at their feet. Simon rested his head on Jace’s shoulder. Without thinking he blurted, “I love you.” 

Jace froze. He’s known Jace for two months, long enough to know this is love or close enough to love. Besides he didn’t really do slow or subtle.

“Simon,” Jace breathed, so carefully. What was between them wasn’t glass it was strings of steel, strong strings that have held through a lot. “I love you too.” 

“No strings, right?” Simon asked ironically. “What happened to that?”

Jace kissed his forehead. “You always have to flip everything on its head.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” 

“Oh, it was.” 

Simon laughed and the void inside him didn’t exist, he wasn’t hungry for anything, nothing beyond this simple moment on a bench in the chilly October air. 

He felt the euphoric feeling of life.

He didn’t need to, but he just breathed in.

And out. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is a wrap 
> 
> I want to thank everyone who read this story and everyone who left kudos/comments/bookmarks. This whole fic exists because amazing people like you read it. I can’t put into words how much all the feedback has meant to me. From the bottom of my heart I thank all of you for making this experience amazing. 


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